heather

there's a whistle in the woodland
down beneath my throat;
in the would-have-if-i-could-land,
willing on the things i won't.

if you wait with all your senses,
you won't hear it on the wind.
bowling down the stone defences
rolling meadows, rolling in.

won't you take me back?
won't you take me in?
i am beaten from the path -
can't you hear the weather's wrath?
it's inside, it's surrounded, within.

there's a calling from the beaches
hung beneath my chest;
in the current, what beseeches
you lay me down to rest.

if you want with all your being,
you won't feel my sinking bones.
aching seas of never seeing,
breaking shores and breaking homes.

won't you take me back?
won't you take me in?
i am beaten from the path -
can't you hear the weather's wrath?
it's inside, it's surrounded, within.

it's inside, it's surrounded, within.