Luyện nghe bài hát Kingfisher

Whose is the hand I will hold?
is the face I will see?
Whose is the that I will call,
I am called to meet thee?

In life, who did you love,
beneath the ashes,
beneath the sheeting of air
that bore our rations?

I could speak, it was too late.
Didn't you hear me
Didn't you see my leap,
like a pup in the barley?

In life, where did you crouch,
when the sky had set to
within, seen from without,
and gut was a serpent, coiling.

And, for the of that pit of snakes,
for whom did you your shyness,
and all your mercy,
and madness, and grace,
in a day, beneath the cypress?

It was not on principal.
Show, Pro-heart, that you got gall.
A
I can bear a lot, but not pall.

I can a lot, but not that pall!
Kingfisher, the alarm.
Say, "Sweet darlin, now,
come to my
tell me all the love
you on the farm."

He was a kind, man
with a lip and a steady hand,
but he loved me just like a child;
like a little child a little lamb.

to the ground,
by something down
by the bad air,
while the tick;
trying to all the signs,
preparing for when the bombs
hung the underbelly of the earth,
while the stars away, below,
and brakeless, gravel-loose,
falling silent as gavels in the

I lay and spit my chaw,
in the long arm of the Law,
who has it all:
I can a lot, but not that pall.

I can a lot, but not that pall!
Kingfisher, cast your
oh, Lord,
it happens even trying,
when I sling a low
my shuttering eye.

Blows upon the one you loved,
and, though you were sparring,
blood on the eye.
the glove.
Say, I am not sorry.

Stand here and
the one you loved,
the drifting ashes,
and, in naming, rise time,
as it, flashing, passes.

We by the boatload,
and immobilized:
volcanoes,
charting the skies.
The tides of the
us bound, and calcified,
and made as as obsidian,
unmoving, save our
just mooning and
from faces with coal.
(Ash and shrinking
cracks as thunder rolling.)
I I know you. You know me.
Where have we met
me true:
to whose
do you consign soul?

I had a you came to me,

You not do me harm anymore,
and your knife,
you my life
from its lighthouse
on the seashore.

And I saw that my
had no bounds,
in a circle like an atom bomb,
soaking and
in its path,
and welling in my heart a birdbath.

It is too
the day we are born,
we commence our dying.
to serve,
with the of a child;
kingfisher, lie the lion.