When wind blows Celia's gown up off her legs
she runs under pillars of the bank--
great round pillars of the bank
have on white stockings too.

: :

Celia says my father
will bring me a golden bowl.
When I think of my father
I cannot see him
for the big yellow bowl
like the moon with two handles
he carries in front of him.

: :

Grandpa, grandpa...
(Light all about you...
ginger... pouring out of green jars...)
You don't believe he has gone away and left his great coat...
so you pretend... you see his face up in the ceiling.
When you clap your hands and cry, grandpa, grandpa, grandpa,
Celia crosses herself.

: :

It isn't a dream....
It comes again and again....
You hear ivy crying on steeples