weary blues

Lie me down a little while
Don't want to sleep too long

I said
Just lie me down a little while, I
Don't want to sleep too long

My eyes just get so heavy. I
been working here too long --


Lie down with that gray heavy
make space beside your bones

I said lie down now, lie down easy
Make some space beside your bones

Don't want much from the world, just
Want to rest those weary bones --



 Old snake comes like a thin gray fog
Curls up inside your bones

I said old snake, he comes like smoke
Curls up inside your bones

Just lay you down a little while
Don't want to sleep for long




Lay me down a little while
Don't want to sleep for long.
I said

Lay me down a little while, I
Don't want to sleep too long

My eyes are just so heavy
I worked in this world too long --



Don't ask too much of this hard world
Don't ask this world for peace

Don't ask too much of this hard world
I said don't ask this world for peace

Don't ask for no refreshment I
Just want a little sleep --



A little box, a little earth,
a little old gray stone

Said I don't want much: a little earth
A little old gray stone

A little box to lay me in
And rest these weary bones

Lay me down a little while
Don't want to rest too long

Garden

so we come again to the garden

walking these our footworn paths
hand in hand
survey the land that now unjungled sighs,
settles into these tilled and wellsown fields

to docile groves, to humble carrot patches
the sweet rioting of vines contained and pruned

to fragrance of green breaths
to bees rejoicing anthems as they labor

what jungles may have been, what bitter thorns
now, stem by stem, and sweatbathed, all uprooted

those bones that writhed with shrill wormjoyful stink
rotting now quietly beneath their trees
sweetening the dark and tender soil

here we have cultivated love, and conversation
fed with delight, with honey, cinnamon, ripe peaches

let us return now to the good bread of toil, to salt the earth
let us brownarmed and strong together
let us raise our beesong too of work and rest

driving

the cars' eyes in the fog glance swift and bright approaching
we all in these our boxes wandering appear and disappear
we do not know where

some giant has blown smoke into the bowl of the earth
thick, white, creeping up the nostrils into the brain
it summons us visions

every moment we arriving from fog into a new somewhere
are leaving always, we do not know where we may be going
or we may only be dreaming

we wandering see only fog thick as the scent of lilies
black treeshapes pasted onto tissue paper dissolving
we have forgotten where
or we may only be dreaming