sit here at my side put up your little feet while I sing war songs by firelight betrothed by wine we marry poems in a musty book hearts a handful of dust might we be the happy dead how thin and clear the battle call across the miles how our women car

she's counting duck down willows in a dangerous storm people outside should avoid windows short songs are winter - the sum of her stories in bubbling stew and cozy fresh-baked bread at mind’s sunset, we all say grace fortunate as a howli