He leaned close, "the hush is a thief" whistle whispered by the house with the wishbone back, open space in front, too much time around, he was bearded and she was me, so all told it was to have and to hold
And all he gave was all she took, and he leaned close to say what she should hear, "the hush is a thief", things that make no sense to some, because they are not the he or the me, not the two who sat in the middle under an eastern wind blowing, and held tight below the steep eave, waiting while they slept, his beard to her back, the neighbors calling, weather moving and days going purple,
It was she who was me who heard the last thing he said, as he put his face by her back, "we lie together tight like the catkins upstream" and I to him "but the hush is the thief"
And all he gave was all she took, and he leaned close to say what she should hear, "the hush is a thief", things that make no sense to some, because they are not the he or the me, not the two who sat in the middle under an eastern wind blowing, and held tight below the steep eave, waiting while they slept, his beard to her back, the neighbors calling, weather moving and days going purple,
It was she who was me who heard the last thing he said, as he put his face by her back, "we lie together tight like the catkins upstream" and I to him "but the hush is the thief"