When Clara was twelve
We rented a Shetland pony for her birthday party
And... she and her friends were leading the pony around
And I turned to get the phone
And the pony kicked her
Here
She fell
It seemed to take forever for her to fall
You know those moments when momentous things happen
So slowly
I reach
Like these paintings in the old tradition
There's a figure reaching out in them like so
And to me it is the most familiar tableau
I know
So much wanting something
So much reaching for it
So much wishing just to have one moment back
So much being patient
So much blind acceptance
I know
No, I don't know!
A mother here in Italy
A mother here alone
I thought if I had a child
I would take such care of her
So much reaching for it
So much holding back and keeping fingers crossed
Watching over by
My little lost
Clara!
If I could then I would paint it over
I would be there and I wouldn't turn away
If I only had a chance to not turn away
And the beauty is
And the beauty is
The beauty is