I RECALL A JUNE DAY IN THE FIFTIES brief as any gone as each time doesn't move there that morning never leaves me or I have never left it that morning recalled now by only one of us alive for each of the mornings laid on our earth is set there for just one child staring at the two inch space above the dirt amongst grass fibers field of miniature flowering only noticed by the smallest bees and the child innumerable the scuttling legs there the exchanges of energies the clever lives spent in that fast eternity