Emily

Emily The meadowlark and the chim-choo-ree and the sparrow Set to the sky in a flying spree, for the sport over the pharaoh A little while later the Pharisees dragged comb through the meadow Do you remember what they called up to you and me, in our window? There is a rusty light on the pines tonight Sun pouring wine, lord, or marrow Down into the bones of the birches And the spires of the churches Jutting out from the shadows The yoke, and the axe, and the old smokestacks and the bale and the barrow And everything sloped like it was dragged from a rope In the mouth of the south below We've seen those mountains kneeling, felten and grey We thought our very hearts would up and melt away From that snow in the night time Just going And going And the stirring of wind chimes In the morning In the morning Helps me find my way back in From the place where I have been