Moon

We ran these fields from sun up to sun down

We played hard and played long

Time was of no consequence, it never ran out

They called you Moon

but you were Shooting Star

Buried under the shade of the willow

Your story ran out of ink

We played baseball on the ancient diamond

Basketball in the dusty gym

Football between the pines

They called you Moon

but you were Shooting Star

Buried under the shade of the willow

Your story ran out of ink

You went left and I went right

Our stories on separate shelfs

I hope we end up in the same book.

They called you Moon

but you were Shooting Star

Buried under the shade of the weeping willow

Your story ran out of ink