It's spring, I think.
There's a girl.
Blue dress and eyes.
Gold hair and a toy
Soldier that smiles
From her golden fist.

She is playing by
A wide lake. The
Wind through her
Metal braid is the
Soft mother's hand that
Dances flowers smooth.

See the grass sway.
See the wooden man
Blow elegantly away.
See her leap after him.
Hear her splash
Through the water’s skin.

Above the air
In the corse of a spectator-ship,
A wooden man is upside-down
To watch her drown.
He hums with the thrum
Of the blood in his ears,

"Blue over blue over blue."