Woolen Blankets

I had a lot to say
before they sewed my mouth shut
Out on a rosy field,
between a cross and crescent

I had a love so pure
I had to leave her behind.
I never told her why
Did I ever tell myself why?

I kept a steady hand
as we untied the bowline,
Off of a ragged pier
during a grey-haired sunset.

Past the old tree and the coal mine,
We deserted all the burdens of the land
Traded all that aging clay
For the urgency and anger of the sea

A hundred fading prayers
sewn into woolen blankets
And my father’s rosary
twisted around my frail uncertain wrist

I’d heard a soul could float
But could it swim to safety?
Well I’m scared that when this ends
I may not even have one
at all.

And you said,
“I do believe that hope
is just a grand distraction
from the walls you will have to climb.”
So pick up your weeping feet
and just start moving forward
And don’t look back to see if she’s there.

And she will never see your face