There Is a Summer
There is a summer
come along on windtide
weaving through the reeds
return like an old friend
Bags and beachtowels in the trunk
there is a summer
port town postcards always
too little room to tell
Winding round a mountain road
down through Bobcat Pass again
there is a summer
waving for the camera
Once then in the cool night
you took my hand
as we watched the birds fly home
there is a summer gone
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