Way Back Home

Bourbon honey light spilling over farmland fields
Dylan on the radio
Leaving amber woods and a reckless woman
Just a child, or so I'm told

Unmoored aberration, silent inner still
Weary back and heavy load
Starling murmuration, crest another hill
Shadows falling long across the road

And I lost my way back home

Honeysuckle fur matted red with rust and dirt
Carried limp up gravel drive
Eggshell coated farmhouse, front door creaking open
Heavy haze in seafoam eyes

Callous hands on shovel, soil turned, stone marker
Teary haunted memorize
Cradled warming hearth hands, front porch wine confession
Sunset falling fireflies

And I'm finding my way home

Thunder in the distance, red wine creaking dock
Pouring rain on stipple pond
Soaking clothes on hardwood, tinder box bed kindled
Tangled linen in the fold

Growing full expectant, tiny kicking presence
Nestled soft the morning glow
Bramble berry iris, honeysuckle cowlick
Jackknife fingers grasping for a hold

And we made our own way home

Honeysuckle hair matted red with rust and dirt
Carried limp up gravel drive
Brittle eggshell footsteps, burning bourbon teardrops
Unbelieving pleading eyes

Callous hands on shovel, soil turned, stone marker
Unrelenting silence finalize
Falling into hearth hands, sorrow creaking open
But the cracks let in the light

And we'll find a new way home

And it's been three long years before you realize
That there's nothing to be done but take vengeance on the time
And you make your way back home