"Good thinking, young American!"

Flowing. Freezing. Frozen.
Ice on the Delaware.
Another summer has to come.
Once again, we'll fish there.

Speeding. Slowing. Stopped.
We'll decorate the world.
One or two, no, ten times more.
Before the strings of fate unfurl.

Racing. Running. Rest.
We'll reap what we sowed.
Into the fragrant Mother Earth.
The seeds of life will go.
And you will help this stupid child.
Because you always know.

Winning. Losing. Lost.
The sorrow does not soothe.
And right now, I'm that kind of sad.
The kind forbidding you to move.
My heart says things will be okay.
My mind has some things to prove.

Sleeping. Dreaming. Dreamt.
The stories told and never told.
The arms will wrap around you.
When you're alone or not alone.
The tears you'll cry when you are young.
Carve out the canyons of the old.
Incite the memories of everything.
Turn the meek into the bold.

Living. Dying. Dead.
Cats and Dogs and Birds.
Carved into your backyard.
Driving by the herds.
Green, green Pennsylvania.
Silent, sad Narrowsburg.
Where water is just glass.
Where the train is seldom heard.
It is vague, vaguer, and vaguest.
When it's taking you away.
When you are gone to stay.
To create the land of made up words.
Make tomorrow yesterday.
Because the time is always yours.

Frozen. Freezing. Flowing.
Found and never lost.
Sleeping. Smiling. You are here.
Ice is barely frost.
Shooting. Shooting. Shooting stars.
You will decorate the world.
You'll wish for me. I'll wish for you.
The world will always twirl.
And I'll be alone or not alone.
One day, I'll simply be too old.
One day, I will ride that train.
The train that will be just as vague.
But like you, I'll stay young, stay bold.
My stories will be told.

And your arms will wrap around me.
Living. Living. Alive.