Pulling the softened irises

From the mud in the darkened yard.

Pulling the statued eyes

From the window that is barred.

The night the air made way

For the golden mountain love song

Whose lyrics stung “God save!

Sing lonely! She’ll be gone long.”

But the empty field rang silence

Beneath the pleading marsh

Clipping shoulders ‘gainst the fences

Where the neighbors began the march.