can't trace this conversation --
words fragment and fall
into blue shadows by a white-baked wall.
through shimmering spaces a single thrush calls --
a song when it's over is no song at all.
(Chorus:) and you know I long to feel that sail
leaping in the wind
and i long to see what lies beyond that rim
oh, ever-new lover and friend
sing me that love song again.
time measured in summersaults
and flickering kids' play --
cross-world and southward it's a fine summer day
translucent life-span evaporates away
to bead on the cool grass in a cyclic ballet