Under Batmans Cape

The children are playing in the street.
I hear their joyful screams,
dancing rings in summer heat,
cowboys of the back streets,
soldiers forming battle teams,
highwaymen who rob the sun
of all its golden light

Batman twirls his cape,
inventing secret monsters
hidden in the night.
They summon Superman
in mock terror as they run
to the freedom of escape

As the evening shadows lengthen,
falling into softer dreams,
they gather in a circle
with sparkling eyes
heads bent close together
arms and legs a tangle
they tell fantastic stories
from their rich imaginations
suited to their size

All those tales are distant now.
The world became less wise.
The streets are full of cars.
The childrens’ voices all are gone,
silenced by closed doors,
as monsters step onto the screens
displaying ugly scars
on the evening new.

The children play in cyberspace
eating substitutes for food
in a world full of shadows
where no one has a face.

Lock your children up
the bogeyman’s about

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