Letra de Field After Field
The thin moon frost North pulling up oyster shells Coins and rings lost Hard pale green dusted fruit Moves over her skin In the shining grass Plum trees blow Their roots vein and flowSoft shadows from afar Cross his back And the woods ringThe scent of hay Drifts minutely away Into the jet black rooms of the houses A woman sitting in a field of clover Her sundown head bowed over A needle rising up Her breath against him The thin moon stars sweeping Snake movement of their limbs sleeping Night opens up field after field