wet is my whistle wandering wayward trouser is caught in a thorny bramble sun soon be slipping down spine of the meadow swamp candle flower a watery fellow the monarch my right hand left is the sparrow twilight blue my bone and marrow the river s path is old and narrow first evening star to comfort the scarecrow pull me up by the roots of my hair into the rosy atmosphere pull me up by the roots of my hair into the rosy atmosphere marveling over dead branches wind in the grasses