Kingfisher.
There stand humble white tombs.

I used to have a jar
which had every word that you had spoken to me
I kept it on the mantle
Where the fires I kindled each night would keep me warm
and when the fires were not enough
I unfolded each little paper
and I saw you
like looking through slits in a fence
to a field of wild flowers stretching out into the sun

How I longed to hop that fence
How I longed to run along the rivers edge
to be laughing, drenched in the pollen,
the sweet nectar of your heart.
To catch the dazzling sun lest it be claimed by the horizon
and fix it in the sky to light the beauty of that field

But this land could not be purchased
It could not be claimed
as each night in sight of a thousand glowing embers
I placed that jar back on my mantle
to weather the cold nights and howling winds
in this old drafty house
I vowed to add to it tomorrow

Now I have boxes
In an attic, in a creaky house, far away
with thousands of days etched on endless pages
I don't visit them very often
I don't make fires any more
There's so much you've said that I've forgotten

But when I'm standing by the river
and catch sight of that old wooden fence
When I wake up covered in nectar
I don't miss my little jar
because I am journeying
deep in my beautiful field

Love comes to all soon or late,
And maketh gay or sad;
For every bird will find its mate,
And every lass a lad,