Lyric

The curtains breathe in pale September light

Dust turns slowly in the afternoon

A clock hums softly to itself

As if it knows I’ll be leaving soon

The garden leans against the rain

Petals resting on the grass

Footsteps fade along the lane

Like something tender that could not last

I keep your letters in a wooden drawer

Tied with ribbon, fading blue

The ink has thinned to quiet grey

But every word is still of you

Across the fields the skylark bends

Into the hush of cooling air

Nothing breaks and nothing mends

We only linger there

If I should walk beyond the hill

Where evening folds the sky

Will the light remember still

The way we said goodbye

The curtains breathe, the room grows dim

A silver trace along the floor

I close my eyes and let it in

The day we were before