out on the playground where we all once were orphans courageous, before text tatooed our palms, the children chained a daisy and began to sing a song. the first one laid a hand in, the soils' heart still beating, slowly 'round the circle the others followed digging: one by one, two by two , three by three, then four. now we've sewn ourselves a family. now we've grown ourselves a garden and we are ever growing still. now the calendar it shivers through learned summers, springs, and fallings.