our father's house
when our father died she got the house
she moved back with all her clothes
in boxes made for bees
the yard of rust and sugarcane
a cadillac car for scrap
all full up of weeds
otherwise the rain the sleet
i know she had a lot to give
and most of it for free
keep it close she said to me
when you find whatever or whoever you need
say you won't
you won't ever leave
she carried it all the way back home
the deer hide was winter white
and loose as willow leaves
and what is it it that gathers you
she asked me through the red tin roof
and hung to dry with holly vines
the venison in sheets
say you wont
you won't ever leave
otherwise i wanted to stay
then i saw the morning light
a flashlight through my skin
all blood red and wet veins
i thought i'd have something to give
but nothing ever came
say you wont
you won't ever leave
otherwise i left town
i don't miss it all that much but i wish i could call her now
she'd say i hope you're keeping some of what you've found
she'd say i hope you know the woods are full
of high and hungry sounds
say you won't
you won't ever leave