Richard Shindell

There Goes Mavis


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The beach at Newcomb Hollow

The last days of August

The other side of low tide

The sun is high, the sun is high


We?re kneeling in the wet sand

Stopping up a wall breach

Quick, before the next wave

Rushes in, rushes in


The mote around the castle

Is filling up with water

But hope springs eternal

All hands ready ? here it comes


Behind us in the crowd

Some kind of commotion

A little girl is shouting

Fly away! Fly away!


But we pay no attention

The castle is in danger

The ramparts are sinking

We dig on, we dig on


Then out of the blue

There?s an orange canary

On our driftwood flagpole

Shovels down Boys! ? step away


The little girl comes running

She can?t be more than seven

Her mother is behind her

With a cage, with a cage


And her mother is explaining

Baby, it?s just too far

And she?ll never survive here

On her own, on her own


But the little girl?s not listening

She?s talking to the bird

Mavis you can trust me

Now?s your big chance

Fly away!


If Mavis has been listening

She isn?t letting on

We?re all just waiting

No one moves, no one moves


And then comes the wave

Swamping the castle

No one is watching

When it falls, when it falls


We?re following the progress

Of a little bolt of orange

On the long horizon

There goes Mavis

There goes Mavis


Writer/s: Richard Shindell