And when I go to seed
just let them blow me
down the road. I'll ride
red blades of prairie grass,
I'll find a lonesome boot
and hitch to knotted lace.
Or fly with a bufflehead,
be taken under wing and rest
in paper birch, asleep
while autumn leaves
fluttertongue the breeze.
And when the dawn sets flame to sky,
I'll be on the wind to ride
another mile - two thousand miles
to be a whisper on your lip
a tickle on your thigh,
I will be home to say goodbye.