When the cock crows loud at the day's first light
I force myself from bed
When the breakfast's done and the coffee's cold
I start the day's long work
When the days grow short and the evenings cool
I reap and store the hay
But when the wind blows soft through the pine tree tops
I stop and think of you
When the sheep grow warm in the heat of spring
I shear their wooly coats
When the rain drips down on the kitchen floor
I climb and patch the roof
When the larder's sparse and the lamp oil's low
I ride the mare to town
But when the geese fly south in the dusky sky
I stop and think of you
When the wood pile's top falls below the rail
I sharpen dad's old axe
When the wind blows in on the long, cold nights
I find and patch the gaps
When the spring's first thaw swells the little creek
I break and turn the soil
But when I close my eyes or I draw my breath
I stop and think of you
When the larder's bare
When the lamp's gone out
When the coffee's gone
When the walls leak wind
When the rain drips in
When the hay grows wild
When the sheep run free
When the soil packs down
When the fire wood's gone
When I lie in bed
I weep and think of you
(originally posted on my cogito site October 31, 2005)
Hello, friends. How are you today?
Later. Love.
