My eyes fail me, the spirit is but a ripple, an echo
Afloat on the sun cast waters
With parting gifts and wine
The hands, the toil, push me on
But,
It’s pretty, the ripple, the sky and I
Like bodies at a funeral
My soul crying
Mouths are sighing
"How very pretty the evening sky looks"
As it looks back on us, two bodies,
Day and me
Dead and dying, dying, dying.