The Field from Orchid Mantis by Elizabeth Devlin

The Field

The wind is blowing through the trees
and there is smoke upon the breeze.
The taste of a life I used to know,
If I close my eyes I see
all the things that use to be
and the memories that nobody knows.

When you come to me like this,
it is torture split with bliss
and I don't know which way is up.
When we ran through fields in spring
and we laid down counting things,
the leaves and the buds on buttercups.

I still remember this,
it is a dream I can't forget,
the way you looked in the sun
and you laughed and told me things
about all the coming springs
and the life we would know beyond the dusk.

I still remember it ,
it is a feeling I can't forget
the way your lens pointed at my face.
We were so young and free,
living irresponsibly, on that Easter
in a field of buttercups.

I still recall the taste
of your lips upon my face,
and the spring fell around us
dropping puddles of honey.
It is a delicious thought,
all the memories you have brought
me now in the cold of the Fall.

Darling, I miss you,
I miss the life we knew,
the sun in your curls
and the darkness of my eyes.
Baby, where are you,
so far away in that field of buttercups.

• Acoustic
• Ambient
• Americana
• Avente-garde Folk
• Experimental
• Folk
• Indie
• New York