The Garden Wheel

Now every stone has a face Every leaf, there's a bead of sweat That drops it's embrace The day that I left The day that we met, a story you loved And that life isn't mine For a time, it was mine At peace, in the place where we slept Without anger Without language, lately But now it's rising in me like a fiend And I feed At least, I feel what I need Isn't proof, but some truth of the story Maybe Of how we worked to till the soil Until the labor all but spoiled How we worked the earth so much It turned to dust How am I supposed to feel? When the robins steal From the cardinals, in the garden Turn the autumn wheel It's how we're supposed to feel When the onions peel And the harvest was the hardest In the garden I dream of the roads that we'd weave In the winter Through fields, all covered in stones That would dance When the night came calling And the quarry of things And the ring That went laughing down there Was it the first missing thing, that we'll never see? Until they find him And how I searched upon the shore Until my knees were red and sore Because I feared the rest of us would start to rust How am I supposed to feel? When the robins steal From the cardinals, in the garden Turn the autumn wheel It's how we're supposed to feel When the onions peel 'Cause the harvest was the hardest In the garden