the soil she felt like velvet she said
ran like sorrow he thought through his hands
and Steve stood stirred too by the sod
together they talked she heard what was said
how it was like dough she had rolled
but later to Steve at last he remarked
what he'd thought:  how like sorrow it
and now among the small pines Steve
said    sorrow-soil the words are close
but no now again he thought she said
velvet and I thought sorrow it felt
rich in my hands like hope or promise
and it ran like sorrow to the ground