Where are they?

Behold the gentle, brown-eyed child
two blonde sisters, widened smiles

Along the ridge they often sped
a rider, wood nymphs close behind
capes, like wingèd insects, flying

and the damp earth rumbled with their canters
and the trees caught up their far-flung laughter
till all their childlike chattering calls
had echoed far beyond us all

Where are the arms full of harvested leaves?
Where now the hands that curled, careful and soft
on spiders and conkers, kittens and cake?
Fading fast those painted faces, sticky mouths
all gapped and grinning
Tear-streaked when the ice-creams melted
when the snowmen seeped away

Oh where are they that went before?

Their days have gone down to the laundering sea
and left all at once on the urging of tides
They have passed through the mists of memory
like smoke from doused candles, ghosts in a wall,

Oh who shall gather them up again?
That gentle, brown-eyed boy of mine
two blonde-haired daughters; three of a kind