He emerges <br />(somewhat startled) <br /> <br />from the jungle <br />of his days <br /> <br />unaware that the War <br />has ended <br /> <br />a quarter of a century <br />ago or more <br /> <br />still as green <br />& platsic <br /> <br />as he had been <br />way back then when <br /> <br />my child's hand <br />had placed him there <br /> <br />& my now adult hand <br />picks him up...runs him under the tap <br /> <br />time disolving <br />like cobwebs <br /> <br />as still he guards <br />the secret door <br /> <br />of my childhood <br /> <br />fights off <br />the tears <br /> <br />that explode <br />all around him <br /> <br />not recognising now <br />the child <br /> <br />who had lost him.<br /><br />Dónall Dempsey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-secret-door/
