As you lie here in a bed
White linen sheets, corners crisp and clean
Think back to the willow tree with its falling ropes
As green as hope
Growing freely while the children play in the sun
Watch as they take running dives
Head-first at full speed
With screams of laughter. They reach the end
Of the long black plastic sheet
And pick themselves up,
Ignoring the grass stains,
The little scrapes and cuts.
There's no such thing as pain
As they run back up to the top of the hill.