| so I went to the trails that I had walked before the windswept seaside highways I had known I was down below the falling light, just above the tide said, "is this the road that I shall ride? but it's only my own face I see, and can that be right? it's only my own face I see, and the daylight going by..." so I went to a girl I might have loved someday asked her if she knew the whole way home I was one among the innocent, counting on the night she said, "I cannot be your moonlight... it's only my own face you see, and ain't that right? it's only my own face you see, and the starlight going by..." and it's my mother's or my father's voice my sister's or my uncles', aunts' and cousins of my childhood and the childhood of their children and then still it's my grandparents' voices sometimes true and sometimes lying rising up and falling down to all of us again... to all of us, again and again you cannot find the starlight that remembers you you cannot find a face that lights the sky so don't ask for one answer, more than one question is true and many are the roads that you shall ride... |