driven through by her own sword summer died last night, alone even the ghosts huddle up for warmth autumn has come to my hometown friendly voices, dead and gone singing star of the country down even the ghosts help raise the barn here now in my hometown when out of the (massing apples in the bogs) in the cold West flew a waxwing who falls and died against my breast and all the while, rain, like a weed in the tide, swans and lisps down on the gossiping lawn, saying, "tsk, tsk, tsk" i may have changed it's hard to gauge time won't account for how i've aged would i could tie your lying tongue who says that leaving keeps you young and i have got no control over my heart, over my mind over the hills, the rainclouds roll i, winter, here wait for a sign to cast myself out over the water riven like a wishbone you'd hardly guess i was my own mother's daughter i, a naturally (given alone) and i lay low when i return and i move like a gurney whose wheels are squeakin' alone in a home and i laugh when you speak of my pleasure-seekin' among the tall pines along the lay-lines lay away the rune kings they lie where the moon leans lie where alone, my violent love lays down in a row of silent dove-grey days here in a row of silent dove-grey days wherever i go, i am snow-bound by thoughts of him who my runes shine i love them all, one by one cannot gain ground cannot outrun but time marches along you can't always stick around but when the final count is done i will be in my hometown i will be in my hometown