Not one motion her gesture could I forget The pretties bag lady I ever met Pushing her cart in the rain! Then, gathering plastic and glass She watched the day pass Not hour by hour but pain by pain.
I was a basket filled with holes And she was the sand I tried to hold That ran out behind me As I swung at some invisible hand.
I was dead, then alive She was like wine turned to water then turned back to wine You can pour us out- we won't mind As stratched around the mouth of the glass: "my life is no longer mine."
If your still looking a blnket, sweetie, I'm sorry I'm no sort of fabric. But if you need a tailor Take your torne shirt Stumble up my stairs and mumble your pitiful prayers And in your tangled knoted sleep Our midnight needles go to work Until all comfort and fear flows in one river Down in the shop by the mirror where you see yourself whole- and it makes you shiver.
I was dead, then alive She was like wine turned to water then turned back to wine You can pour us out- we won't mind As stratched around the mouth of the glass: "my life is no longer mine."
Even the wind lay still Our essence was fire and cold and movement; And if they ask us for the sign of the Father in you Tell them: movement and repose.