A Separate Time

In the years since I saw you on Sunday
I left my house and walked out on the earth
With only my occasional luck
and knowledge of cards

I met men and women, constantly dissatisfied
who had not learned to close their hands
Sewing and patching their few words
Fashioning garments they hoped to grow into
There were winters sheltered in a cabin beneath pines
Frozen rivers, animals crazy with hunger
But always I saw myself
Walking toward you

As a drop of water touching the earth
Immediately turns toward the sea, toward the sea
The sea in a separate time
A separate time

Tonight I visit your house
In the time that’s precious to newspapers and clocks
Only a few days, a few days have passed
The room is quiet, quiet
Looking into your eyes, I am an exile turning the corner
Turning the corner of the last cliff,
who suddenly sees his home valley
With its steep terraced fields,
and its white-roofed houses
Gathered there on the hillside

And then the smell of woodsmoke, and a woman
Calling her husband in for the night, in for the night,
The night in a separate time
A separate time

Always I see myself walking toward you
As a drop of water touching the earth
Immediately turns toward the sea, toward the sea
The sea in a separate time

A separate time
In a separate time
In a separate time
In a separate time