When we were mourning The loss of our friend, The pain didn't seem so bad Because you and I went back To work in the sheepfold.
But when you took that job In the vineyard last week, Pruning young vines, I found myself in the field Without your ears to listen, Without your eyes to see The pain my heart was beating.
Now here I am, The loss of two friends Pressing down on me. Sure, I can still meet you to Unlatch our metal lunch boxes, Talking with our mouths half full, Sandwiches our wives made. But on most days I am alone.
Here in the grazing-grass There is no one To hear my thoughts But God And the wind.