call on that saint
and the candle that burns
keeping her safe

until her return

plaster and paint

holding the fire
a poor woman's saint
holding all man's desire


bold little bird
fly away home

could I but ride herd
on the wind and the foam


all of the souls
that curl by the fire
they never know

all man's desire

watercress clings

to the banks of the stream
in the first grip of spring
when the snow melts to green


barefoot and cold
and holding a lyre

by the side of the road
holding all man's desire


call on the saint
when the white candle burns
keeping her safe

until her return