Women
Heart of our hearts
Women
Souls of our souls

They lie down dead
Like sleepers
Through histories landscape

Women
Are our lamb chops
Women
Are our gifts

They
Flourish like meadows
Replenished
By their womanhood

Women
Are where we sleep at night
Women
Are where we eat in the morning

They are the moons of our bodies
They shine,
they control the tides
We do not and cannot follow

Now look back and see
How their broken hearts
Are blown in gusts of autumn wind
As cheap and as beautiful as autumn leaves