I Know the Things and People

I know the things and people keeping all my spirit whole, the death of these can only mean the death of me; the call is blaring out the door, to me, to please my appetite, I live to hear the sound; the still is shattered from the note around. The places in the country, lonely, soft and full of crickets chirping, rabbits small and nimble, sitting on a loft It's here I may release the thickened wall. The loft atop the log across the creek, oh here the sorrowful, the deep and meek. The people, mother, brother, friends and loves, they all can calm my racing heart. My soul, my lover with the air of doves, my reckless woman who I keep apart.