Summerchild that sits by the water,
weaving sunlight threads in his hands.
The golden river that day a shelter,
a stream where he could make pebbles dance.
You looked around you,
nobody had taken,
any notice of what you saw:
Against the evening sky a formation,
a million black birds looking like one.
Live long, save ten years to remember,
live long, hold it in front of your eyes once more