(Lyrics forthcoming ...) Based on the poem by Judy Goodenough, rearranged slightly by Jan Harmon. The poem: Fields in Winter On a clear day, early, You can see the pattern laid out, But not as a man sees it. You see white muslin, white thread. Field after field, crazy-quilt With all its corners meeting Miraculously: you can see The pattern laid out under snow, But not as a man sees it. He will think bales and bushels, But you will think colors: Corn-green, timothy, green ryegrass, And how many years it took To piece it together, seam it Tight across the hillside With its stitchery of stone.