Slipping like an oiled rainbow crow

across roofs white with snow

it's a long way to Belfast

shifting in the immigrant undertow

this I know

that's how the wind blows,

A line of dog barking horns

big number airplane shorn

it's a long way to Venango

where green pastures grow

this I know

I'm going where that wind blows,

Trees call me home

shadowed woodland alone

it's a long way to French Creek

waters I seek

this I know

that it speaks with the wind that blows,

Soft ghost winter light

cold flakes blinding sight

it's a long way from Lascuax

with the painted buffalo

this I know

they run with the wind that blows.