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lyrics

From the front yard, I look out.
A white car passes, then
the black carriage, slowly.
My feet are on the ground—

clipped grass hardened
like fearful lovers gazing at the absence
between them, their lack of touch.
I stand in this fullness

of loss, a reminder served
season after season, or night after night.
Memory fails where the world keeps on,
or is it the other way around,

the world a let-down, the trimmed branches
only blazing in the mind’s weakest chambers?
There are so few good lights these days

which we were born inside of fat with ignorance.
I was raised among a lushness of hills
and swollen ears of corn come August,
creeks bent like streaks of lightning,

where the rosé sun strolled in each morning above
the screams of feeding hogs
and other abstract echoes leaking
from the blue valley.

Maybe the present moment
only calls back in a voice
that sounds as if it’s out of breath.
Maybe the rain

isn’t the only thing here
capable of baptism. Maybe the snow.
Once, somewhere in those hills
so distant from me now, a man

looked out from the top of a tree and saw
possibility. Of course, this meant the end
of something. We know the story. We know

the tree that held the man who had a vision
didn’t last. We know the sun rose today
and the sky was pink and empty,

and whatever’s out here
that I perceive as something waiting—
this grass, or those leaves—
waiting to be named,

stands beside me. The carriage passes.
The song is sung. The season turns
to colors only vibrant in the mind,
coming together, pulling apart.

credits

from When The Spirit Comes All Over You, released November 20, 2022

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Sweet Teeth Columbus, Ohio

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