almanac

oh, my love
please take your shovel back
it's a bad year
I read in the almanac
for breaking ground
where roses have been
it's a bad year to start again

oh, my love
I don't know the season
for all these bulbs
I found in my garden
I'm striking stone
where I know there was life before
afraid of the things I have torn from the earth

I watch gray wings and blue wings and red-bellied birds
circle the steeple of somebody's church
I flow like a river down into the ground
I grow like a vine, always wrapping around
I've got my clouds all lined up in a row
I am waiting for something to show

oh, my love
yes, I am smiling
but it is July
and I've still got my sweater on
and two pair of boots
I won't leave the house without
checking the almanac
checking the almanac

rinse off your orchids and lie in my yard
with hose to the sky I can't see very far
got the best of my hope here
pressed into the mud
no one told me that Bleeding Hearts die in the sun
I've got my pots all lined up in a row
I am waiting for something to grow
I've got my pots all lined up in a row
I am waiting for something to grow

oh, my love
thanks for the shovel