Sunday, September 4, 2011
. . . written as an anniversary song, for my Justin, with the hopes that it will take on a pretty blues tune one afternoon during Izaka's nap, after the missing middle string is replaced on our guitar.
All these years and things that have passed,
carrying us slow and sometimes pulling us fast
to where we are now, sitting on this travelling coach.
And once in a while, when rocking calms
you lean my way and lift a skirt that hangs
curtaining the window of this travelling coach.
Your fingers let in some white-grey light
that escapes from moving fields into our tight
little space, spilling over the darkness of our travelling coach.
And on my left all our baggage is piled
and against your arm is our sleeping child.
I’m happy when your eyes meet mine on this travelling coach.
A family of three we are carried on,
Always thinking of the place we’re coming from
And the hands that hold the whip of this travelling coach.