Oursee

And in the fields
of grass of dirt
Of dry dirt, dust
of noise, of rust.
And in those fields
we met, we saw
that death, not far
No death's not far.
And in the dust,
we sat, I sat
And you walked up,
and sat, we sat.
And in the fields,
we sat by side,
mind-in-mind, we
would not die.

But sadtosay
you're dead; I'm dead.
Yes sad to say, we're dead.
But in the fields,
of light, of grass,
we met, and
for a second saw
that death was
nowhere near
us.