In Yuma by monsoon season Grandson of the Fire Chief there I had to wait for my swingset To cool down from the sun where I built a sundial in the sand Marking time to no avail One coming to understand By stepping on its rusty nail Time as something to transcend yet To get through to go on Orange by Santa Ana Wind Frightening my rabbitry Kites in the night there John and me By velvet blue we flew and All good things must come to an end Bad things too but the reason Is a swingset is a friend Is learning if the hard way still If anything goes on we will Until gone on and gone Steven Curtis Lance