People With Proud Chins

I TELL them where the wind comes from, Where the music goes when the fiddle is in the box. Kids — I saw one with a proud chin, a sleepyhead, And the moonline creeping white on her pillow. I have seen their heads in the starlight And their proud chins marching in a mist of stars. They are the only people I never lie to. I give them honest answers, Answers shrewd as the circles of white on brown chestnuts.