The world is too much with us,
so let us find some sticks,
and build us walls more sturdy
than paltry stone and bricks.
We’ll build a fort so mighty
that it will long endure,
then we can crawl inside
and all the mean abjure.
We’ll hug our knees and revel
in a world of let’s-pretend,
and make believe our hide-out
is where the rainbows end.
We’ll think of things so perfect
the world will be reborn,
and, while we’re at it, capture
and tame a unicorn.
With thanks to William Wordsworth,
to photographer S.W. Berg,
and to Ritchey Woods, Fishers, IN.
Too old and crisped
