take me to that golden spring 

in the half light of the early evening 

where the trees speak in creaks 

whisper secrets in rustled leaves 

in lined bark and coded greens

We knew nothing of luxury 

rolled in the riches of the earth 

dug into the dirt 

wrought each other wreaths and rings of daisies 

made yeses out of maybes 

And there was always someone we knew 

just a little ahead on the road