There are times that walk from
you like some passing afternoon
Summer warmed the open window of
her honeymoon
And she chose a yard to burn but
the ground remembers her
Wooden spoons her children stir
her Bougainvillea blooms
There are things that drift away
like our endless numbered days
Autumn blew the quilt right off
the perfect bed she made
And she's chosen to believe
in the hymns her mother sings
Sunday pulls its children from
their piles of fallen leaves
there are sailing ships that
pass all over bodies in the grass
Springtime calls her children
'till she let's them go at last
And she's chosen where to be
though she's lost her wedding ring
Somewhere near her misplaced jar
of Bougainvillea seeds
There are things we can't recall
blind as night that finds us all
Winter tucks her children in her
fragile china dolls
But my hands remember hers
rolling 'round the shaded ferns
Nake arms her secets still like
songs I'd neer learned
There are names across the sea
only now I do belive
Sometimes with the windows
closed she'll sit and think of me
But she'll mend his tattered
clothes and they'll kiss as if
the know
A baby sleeps in all our bones
so scared to be alone