The gentle breezes through the grass

Gentle Madame Bordelais

Baking bread for Sunday Mass

Harvest wheat and summery

Wafting out behind the barn

Around the clink of nails and wood

Making tools for making wine

Rugged hands, rugged wood

The wind behind the house still blows,

And dandelions grow there

Upon the hill, around the stones

Where two old lovers died.

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