I can count your name a million times
From fading stars to sunrise
There's nowhere I'd rather be
Under the sun's shining gloom.

If meteorites faded upon the ground
If the moon danced, crumbling down
If the galaxy was safe and sound
Would you stand there with me
Under the sun's shining gloom?

If we sank beneath the sea
If the world's turned upon our reach
If we watched Earth plummet underneath our feet
Would you stand there with me
Under the sun's shining gloom?

Or would we drown below the blue?
Would you pull away, as you do?
Would you pick up the pieces, lathered in glue?
If we stood under the sun, blazing like crystals in the dew
Would we fall apart?
Or is it too soon?

it's easier to forget
being poor than being rich.

loved poor children think they are rich,
or can remember, being so,
feeling so,

even now, past fifty, giving sponge baths
in assisted living for rich
abandoned grandmas.