Twenty winters later 
the dreams are gone,
no memories remain 
of why, of how, Oh why?
Did I stumble, stumble and fall
for another, another land 
near but far,
fields of green like green fields
forests like woods, mere copses  
lakes wet but oh, so far apart
and without paths and access
through private lands
of private people, and ladders
to climb from the bottom rung. 

Twenty winters later 
the dreams are gone,
memories absent without leave,
permission to depart rejected
by … the Fearful Department
of Unexpected Outcomes Ltd;
no jig brings joy 
no gaol but chains 
welded firm by firm hands. 

Twenty winters later 
the dreams are done,
Twenty winters further
& all will be gone.