If I were a tadpole, and you were a fish,
If the South China sea were a licorice dish,

If the King of Siam staged an off-Broadway play,
If the Man in the Moon weren’t afraid of the day,

If phones were not busy and lines never long,
If Fay Wray were a dozen times tall as King Kong,

If gators wore shirts with men stitched on the breast,
If the head of the pack could escape from the rest,

If the dark could be pierced by a single white flame,
If Professor Bob Knoll could remember my name,

If the sea didn’t swell and the ship didn’t rock,
If naive good intentions could turn back the clock,

If each moment could stretch to the end of our lives,
If bees came in gaggles and geese lived in hives,

If the hare beat the tortoise by less than a mile,
If the face in the mirror would give me a smile,

If the northern lights migrated south with the birds,
If my fluttering heart could be calmed by your words,

If I’d show you my heart, and you’d show me yours, too,
We’d have no more excuses.
Then what would we do?

From this month’s issue of The Wagon Magazine.