If you water the shadow of a tree,
dark against the sun-white sidewalk,
what will grow there by your act?
And if you’re three years old,
and you water the shadow of a tree,
what will grow in you with the years?
And if you’ve grown, old but not concrete,
will you watch out the open window,
cheering other water, other shadows?
(after watching the 1996 short film Prelude, by Guy Sherwin)