Letras
Hands searching in the dark and dirt
Unearthing something I cannot see
I imagine reaching to grasp the left hand
Of a king folded in the earth
But I found a coin instead
Its hard edges surprising
And the way it turned up on a Monday in the back garden
As I bent double in the flowerbed
Now I sow Fritillaries
Now I sow Fritillaries
Couldn't help but think of her
Small and guided by her father
Helping to sow the seeds in the nursery
While mother called her in
And years before her father with his father
Gathered fields into furrows
Making plans for the future
Giving her love for the earth
Now I sow Fritillaries
Now I sow Fritillaries
Here I sit dirt under nails
Facing head on inherited things
Grasp the hand of remembering, unearthing
The places that we hide
Now I sow Fritillaries
Now I sow Fritillaries
Writer(s): Hannah Pawson, Gabriel Wynne
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