Cravings

Lace up your shoes and look me in the eyes,
its time to run until we sleep on our feet,
its time to find out how tall pine trees will grow.
I want to bang your mother's copper pot
on the bottom with a wooden spoon,
I want to bake a cookie for every
lost child and I want you,
solid and sure as granite and steel-toed boots,
and I want you.