When a lonely mountain calls her name,
When a red sun sets,
A lake, my heart, listens intent;
A loon calls out for twilight.
And her name is here again
Amidst pines that run the shore,
Where slowly her lines
Run though my head
Slow memories drawn out into the lake
(A canoe silently passes by
As darkness settling in)
To warn me of my heavy eyes
And heart amidst the peaks
Where I shall watch again, tomorrow,
For a sun to lead the way.