ferocious beauty,
abandoned heart,
your blue green eyes
seemed like a window
to a fire

and so you thrilled me
like an old rusty bridge,
sweet things, and mountains.

we are what we are.
desperate, Darling,
fated like all living creatures.

if we didn't fear death,
how could we love

the wild flowers in the meadow,
coffee in the morning,
the joy in the smile of our children,
the warmth of our bodies touching.

you are the flower of the meadow

and I am the one to lie beside you
into endless tomorrows.

casts huge leaf shadows on dirt
and the mockingbird's mocking me.

"mockingbird,"
I put my hands in my pocket
and pretend a smile,
"some things you can't out run,
church bells and a wedding dress,
funeral processions and baptisms,
the cop car radio,

she was so beautiful in her wedding dress,"

I'm pointing my finger up at the mockingbird,
"so I'm a few steps ahead of you in heartache,

it was a toss of the dice,"I tell the bird,

"I threw a handful of rice."

"so don't look sad at me, bird.
everyone gets hurt."

and on her branch in the sycamore tree
the mockingbird's crying to me...

"I'm a few years ahead you...
Sweet One, lonely bird.

I've walked through fire,
stared into the wall of shadow and sorrow
into the cold silence of tomorrow.

I hear what you're telling me, Dear One,
loves been a little ******* you, too,

and there in illusion lies the danger
so please be kind, my friend,

the sorrows that never seem to fade away
become the grey, dark sea,
and sunlight through the Sycamore tree.