Truth Is the Lollipop

They toddle; how they fall!
It snows; in Vancouver.
Space tightens; times too slow.
Grownups grimace; kids glow.
I've heard myself titter.
But why could I not stop?
Freedom is a tyrant
for the hungry thinker.
Seeking manna I’ve failed
to read the child’s answer:
Truth is the lollipop.
Recall when you were small
and when a severe hail
meant hard candy for all?
The sun is out, the snow
at last started to thaw.
This time I do not think.
Could be the little things.