The meadowlark and the chim-choo-ree and the sparrow
Set to the sky in a flying spree, for the sport over the pharaoh
there is a rusty light on the pines tonight sun pouring wine, lord, or marrow
down into the bones of the birches and the spires of the churches jutting
we've seen those mountains kneeling, felten and grey
we thought our very hearts would up and melt away
from that snow in the nighttime just going and going
and the stirring of wind chimes in the morning in the morning
helps me find my way back in
from the place where I have been
and, Emily - I saw you last night by the river
I dreamed you were skipping little stones across the surface of the water
frowning at the angle where they were lost, and slipped under forever,
in a mud-cloud, mica-spangled, like the sky'd been breathing on a mirror
anyhow - I sat by your side, by the water
you taught me the names of the stars overhead that I wrote down in my ledger
tho all I knew of the rote universe were those pleiades loosed in december
I promised you I?d set them to verse so I'd always remember
that the meteorite is a source of the light and the meteor's just what we see
and the meteoroid is a stone that's devoid of the fire that propelled it to thee
and the meteorite's just what causes the light and the meteor's how it's perceived
and the meteoroid's a bone thrown from the void that lies quiet in offering to thee
you came and lay a cold compress upon the mess I'm in
threw the window wide and cried; Amen! Amen! Amen!
the lines are fadin' in my kingdom
though I have never known the way to border them in
in due time we will see the far butte lit by a flare
I've seen your bravery, and I will follow you there
and row through the nighttime gone healthy gone healthy all of a sudden in
search of the midwife who could help me who could help me
help me find my way back in
there are worries where I've been
say, say, say in the lee of the bay; don't be bothered
leave your troubles here where the tugboats shear the water from the water
flanked by furrows, curling back, like a match held up to a newspaper
Emily, they'll follow your lead by the letter
and I make this claim, and I'm not ashamed to say I know you better
what they've seen is just a beam of your sun that banishes winter
let us go! though we know it's a hopeless endeavor
the ties that bind, they are barbed and spined and hold us close forever
though there is nothing would help me come to grips with a sky that is gaping and yawning
there is a song I woke with on my lips as you sailed your great ship towards the morning
come on home, the poppies are all grown knee-deep by now
blossoms all have fallen, and the pollen ruins the plow
and everything with wings is restless, aimless, drunk and dour
the butterflies and birds collide at hot, ungodly hours
Pa pointed out to me, for the hundredth time tonight
the way the ladle leads to a dirt-red bullet of light
squint skyward and listen - loving him, we move within
his borders: just asterisms in the stars' set order
told; the meteorite is the source of the light and the meteor's just what we see
and the meteoroid is a stone that's devoid of the fire that propelled it to thee