Summerchild that sits by the water,
weaving sunlight threads in his hands.
The golden river that day a shelter,
a stream where he could make pebbles dance.
You looked around you,
nobody had taken,
any notice of what you saw:
Against the evening sky a formation,
a million black birds looking like one.
Live long, save ten years to remember,
live long, hold it in front of your eyes once more.
weaving sunlight threads in his hands.
The golden river that day a shelter,
a stream where he could make pebbles dance.
You looked around you,
nobody had taken,
any notice of what you saw:
Against the evening sky a formation,
a million black birds looking like one.
Live long, save ten years to remember,
live long, hold it in front of your eyes once more.