The Gathered Cloud

Do you remember how she used to swing  
And found her way to the playground each day?    
Regardless of the autumn mists - these bring    
A chillness to the most exciting play?    
    
Do you remember your cold eyes that caught    
Her glance: she brought sweet wickedness to mind;    
You took her home for tea; but, how she fought    
To free her hand from you: amoral, blind:    
     
You made her go with you - do as you said;    
She pouted and she sulked, but then allowed    
Your adult adulation on the bed;    
While she gazed out to shape the gathered cloud;    
     
Do you recall demanding secrecy?    
Because I do - that little girl was me.