speak to me in must of grain-bins that willow hand left trailing, strums the fence. i never thought you’d go. same old well-trodden heartlines i chased you down a dusty driveway to tell you goodbye. you stood blinking hands full of watercans. i was leaving for the world, and you just trod on homeward. is it in the womb that these things start? betrayal denial, the jostling for ambient light from distracted hearts too much chewed by the dogs of the world. if i bring you the picture of us with our wild gosling will you remember? pattern repeats. i told you once i couldn’t make your choices in my time. owlish kid i didn’t even know what i meant by that. your hand on the rudder of my soul when it hit me, my storm and i stayed the course. harboured, i blink at the sea winking above darkest green fathom is a funny word. say it ’til you lose weight of knowing what it means, and chant ‘full fathom five full fathom five, full fathom’ the absurd clocks us no matter how we press toward some gaseous vision of gracious mornings the hound lies farting on her rug, get the message there were these paths in the woods, now they’re gone the deer move on, moss springs back, things rustle knowing anything doesn’t save you. life still rubs the lipstick off and the song doesn’t care how you look but i swear i love your haystack hair from now ’til never big boots, big boots, big boots walk on.