Not quite awake, not really asleep,
caught somehow in-between
in a state where I cannot keep
my opaque glance
off the mirror of mystery,
how I am wedged
'twixt that world of innocence,
with it's fancy new nakedness
and all dressed up with wonder,
and another,
where all play for keeps -
guarded and self-conscious,
ready to sunder anyone who'd straddle,
bearing eyes filled with secrets
they sense everyone is on to.
And still I believe
the child's delight
and court justice's sagacity
are largely indistinguishable.
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