I could not say it then.
I cannot say it now.
My heart split in two.
A tree limb weighted by ice.          A white
A white       quiet and protective.     A white
A white       dangerously warm.
My hand spiritless in the drifts. 
Why do birds continue to sing?
                                      Past white past water
                                      past the last word from your tongue
                                      past the altered rhythm of your speaking
                                      we come 
                                      Before darkness before fire
                                      before the simple angel of the young
                                      before the field of lilies and
                                      the birds of fields
                                      we come 
 
You go from me                        Past the simple angel of the young
You go off with my life               past the field of lilies
                                      past the early and the deep
With the perfume odor from your wrists
a pendant around my neck
you go from me                         before white before water
                                      before the last word from your tongue
                                      to us love came and to our love
                                      did come 
There was a man whose coppery voice
anguished and exalted me.
Who left his words hanging in the air -
deadly delirious smoke. 
Where is he now?                         For every gray stone
                                      alive with moss and left
                                      unturned by your kind feet
                                      Heaven's birds sing 
Why do birds continue to sing?        For every gray stone
                                      alive with moss and left
                                      unturned by your kind feet
                                      Heaven's birds sing