"I thawed my winters thinking spring
and now am always cold, with reason,
for bombs can blossom any season.
The pheasants chicks scratch posted ground,
children are game the whole year round
skating the thin ice of the pond
gay and innocent and spruce:
while I in a grave of once-were flowers
and stiffer than their thready bones
forget these seen to be green trees
too mindful of the forest.”

Isabella Gardner, from “Children Are Game.”
Photography credit Mohammadreza Mirzaei.

(via daih-isy)