1
We are the folly,
Of youth, of life, of desire,
Adrift in mem'ry.
2
Where are they now, those
Rebels and dashing killers,
Chameleon kids.
3
They are all but grown,
Lost in a world undesigned,
Far from the school yard.
4
Still we look behind,
Towards the hills and beaches,
To days of summer.
5
Beneath an ocean,
Of stars and passing airplanes,
And a flash of Dawn.
6
Lead me to your stream,
Let me bathe in your water,
Float among the reeds.
7
Can you recall this?
Can you return to summer,
To asphalt fire?
8
She brings me to bed,
She strokes my hair, kissed my cheek,
And falls straight to sleep.
9
Now is then, and we
Drift back to days of summer,
Loathe to come back home.
10
'Twixt fields of amber,
Desert flowers in full bloom,
You danced beside me.
11
Were we so blinded?
Were we not the chosen few,
Destined for great things?
12
Alas, who can say,
If I or you are objects
Of beauty and worth?
13
You felt sun's embrace,
You heard wind's calm minuet,
You tasted sky's rain.
14
Who are you to love,
To tremble at awkward touch,
To sigh at brief gaze.
15
We were but children,
In tall grass, 'neath broad branches,
Through days of summer.
16
Oh sea, quiet surf,
In your hands I place my trust,
Guide me to the shore.
17
Porches of old wood,
Adorned with ancient varnish,
Painted eggshell white.
18
Be still, my lover,
Go where you may in spring time,
But return to me.
19
I remember those days,
Those hours of glee, of triumph,
Those seconds of joy.
20
Are they now all gone?
Are we left to pick at bones,
Of former glory?
21
Mother and father,
Brother, sister; all are here,
All are as one, free.
22
You knew me so well,
Took my failings as virtues,
My flaws gilded bright.
23
I knew you so well,
I dreamt of light and music,
A place you might love.
24
A tree once stood here,
Steadfast, elder traveller,
Now gone to new plains.
25
We made fire at night,
We pitched tents, drew pale portraits,
We lived as blithe lords.
26
Abandoned sea shells,
Stones so round they roam the beach,
A polymer bag.
27
I kept you so close,
Cleared the brush so you may lie,
Swept hair from your smile.
28
Night comes sooner, swift,
An eager rider, employed
With grim vocation.
29
Why must we now go?
Why do you see fit to leave,
With so much unspent?
30
You may not recall,
My face, my touch, my sorrow,
Yet I recall yours.
31
Still I look behind,
Towards the hills and beaches,
To days of summer.