Matthew Arnold’s Field

Beaconsfield to Headington went by
The ring-road to the south
My heart too big to fit inside my mouth
And up there on the hill
The woods and houses still
I took the plastic urn
How heavily we burn

I stood there by the bench
Beneath an arch of trees
The flicker of his voice inside the breeze
And unscrewing the lid
The weirdest thing I did
And tumbling through my hands
The ash fell on the land

And I made a trail through the trees
Dust and pieces at my feet
And down in Matthew Arnold's Field
With sun by cloud concealed
A horse its head held high against the sky

The bridleway led back up to the gate
A car parked by a tree
Inside a couple with sandwiches and tea
They were gazing at the field
Its silence all revealed
As it was once to him back then
And was to me that day again

And I see that trail through the trees
Dust and pieces at my feet
And down in Matthew Arnold's Field
With sun by cloud concealed
A horse its head held high against the sky
On the day I said goodbye
As I tried to say goodbye