I loved learning that little language of yours
In the midday noon highs
When the sun would tick from golden to red
Setting ablaze to all our study time.
(We rolled down hills in fits of laughter.)

I never could quite catch that accent -
The way you'd allign your stars and rest your pride,
Or shake off my stupid little wrestles
With just the double tap-tap on my thigh.

Your voice is gone now,
Except for howls on the midnight eves.
It soars on winds, lost in tornadoes,
Quick and blitzing on the summer breeze.