Devon Sproule 1340 Chesapeake St.
The bruise on my knee is almost gone
Honey's flown to Madison
Phyllis starts a watercolour
Gutters flood a spread umbrella
The burner's up
The flame is high
The water's gone
The pot is dry
But there's a basement full of wine
And nights to remember
Of a slow talk had up a sidewalk
Taking its time
Walking up Chesapeake
Our white house on the right
Next door they're throwing junk away
Furniture out in the rain
They've finally put the old lady away
So I took her silverware
Her books and her kitchen mop
Her hangers and her pans and pots
The dressers where she kept her clothes
It looked as though she lived alone
Much to hear while our four ears are still young
If we shout it right we'll have more years yet to come
Tonight the moon will turn around
All the way back behind the clouds
Folks will lower their telescopes
Drive their wives and kids back home
Their eyes will block with mud and milk
Their eyes inside with blindness filled
And the moon will hide and seek until
There's no one left to wonder why
The rug will soak
The screen will glare
You'll come and summer will be here
We'll kiss and cross the swamp
The boat will wait down at the bottom
The sun will set late in the day
The sun will take its face away
But love
Your face will always stay right beside mine
