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Child of Moving On

de Caroline Smith

If we were kids again
We'd hang out almost everyday
Running through woods at dawn
Finding the magic in things
You'd help me up the tree,
Holding me up to
The top of the branches
Open your book to read
The story that felt like we were already in

Where you're the king of the apple trees
In the orchard where i'd come to eat

Where we'd pull the wings off bees
To build a bed in the top of the barn
Humming through grass we'd sing
Out in the fields with the wind in our ears
Where nights are long
And in the day
You'd paint and i'd write
About outer space
Where i'm the queen of the creek
And the banks where you come to drink

Swimming through birch
And bark tell you my secrets of how i can fly
And i'll show you how tonight
Over bread and some white wine on ice
And i'll draw a bath and we'll cram in
And we'll write this story as we begin
And on the bus we're still living
In the pages of our book that we have written
And as if the wheels have turned to wings
Traveled back to our world filled
With birch trees & broken barns

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