I TELL them where the wind comes from,
Where the music goes when the fiddle is in the box.
  
Kids-I saw one with a proud chin, a sleepyhead,
And the moonline creeping white on her pillow.
  I have seen their heads in the starlight
  And their proud chins marching in a mist of stars.
  
They are the only people I never lie to.
  I give them honest answers,
Answers shrewd as the circles of white on brown chestnuts.