Milk

Stillness in the rye field

Except the peaks of the grass

I'm taking my break under the sun

I'm laying back under the silk tree

Close my eyes, I dream

The misty castle green

Tower in the trees

I dreamt of Genevieve

The myth in the mirror's gleam

And I leave her behind

As the shade rolls in

And my tears turn

To feed the chrysalis

In the tree beside

Hours in the day

I am footsteps on the ridge

I'm piling my sand

Remembering your face

In Orion

I'm on the plateau with my muse

He acts the wise woman's keys

Laughing in the breeze

And I begin to explain

Friar's lantern on the wall

Candle flames like headlights

In the glass

Coming down

From the furthest pass

The sweet essence

Of the time I left

Hours in the day

I am footsteps on the ridge

I'm piling my sand

Remembering your face

In Orion

And I begin to cross

The plain in its flood

With my walking stick

I check the depths of

My grief, standing as water

I must dive down