lets dance our way to victory street
if i find a feather on the pavement
i'll tuck it behind the ear
of an unaware passer by
a toothy girl with gingham ribbons
a stooping man remembering his wife
thats the kind of thing you'd like

if i find a flower on the common
i'll save it for you
the yellow ones were always your favourite
with pollen as sweet
as the smell of  the warmest soup
or chips on a monday eve
or the smell of your scarves
I'll find it in the field, with the stream
remember the time we saw a kingfisher
singing a song of his own
neither of us knew the melody, the score,
yet we smiled in silence at his moment

lets dance our way to victory street
i'll save the yellow flower and king feather for you
keep them in my pocket for a moment which suits
maybe one day
when it's all a little easier
i'll let the flower and the feather float away downstream
i'll ease my fingertips open
release the grasp
of them, of us, intertwined
I'll stand and watch
smiling in silence
as they dance the way
to the street of victory
for the final chapter of this story