Woods

Lost in the woods
With every step I took
I felt you there with me
I raised your kiss
To my thirsty lips
And laughed as it ran down my throat
I’ll never forget
The Payne’s grey day we met
A dove with a bell in its beak
A strange, ancient song
That blossomed on my tongue
Led me to a hidden stream
A cold, fickle breeze
Knocked me to my knees
And the salt on my skin turned to smoke
But the memory still lingers
In the valleys of my fingers
A cut paper bird, a broken bell
So I raised my hood
And walked into the woods
To gather flowers in a basket to bring home
To gather flowers in a basket to bring home