[F.R.O.S.T.] Field of Corn

The sun has given light to shadows
You see that grave in golden furrows
It’s lying in the field of corn
The very place where he was born

She sees that girl, brought up playing
She tries to wake him, muffled waiting
She comes in here every day
And waters corn on his small grave

His small grave

Near this girl, beside the tree
And once she was in love with him
He's loud at her from there
She hears it knowing not from where

But later, when the sun is down
His hand is wild and digs around
And knowing that the girl has gone
He waited on that girl for dawn