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Wandering Angus
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Jolie Holland
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1
I went out to the hazelwood
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Because a fire was in my head
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I cut and peeled a hazel wand
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And hooked a berry to a thread
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And when white moths were on the wing
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And moth-like stars were flickering out
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I dropped a berry in a stream
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And caught a little silver trout
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When I had laid it on the floor
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And went to blow the fire aflame
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And something rustled on the floor
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And something called me by my name
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It had become a glimmering girl
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With apple blossoms in her hair
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Who called me by my name and ran
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And vanished in the brightening air
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Though I am old with wandering
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Through hollow lands and hilly lands
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I will find out where she has gone
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And kiss her lips and take her hand
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And walk through long green dappled grass
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And pluck till time and times are done
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The silver apples of the moon
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And the golden apples of the sun
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