In our days we will live
Like our ghosts will live
Pitching glass at the cornfield crows
And folding clothes
Like stubborn boys across the road
We’ll keep everything
Grandma’s gun, and the black bear claw
That took her dog
And when sister Laurie says “Amen,”
We won’t hear anything
The ten-car train will take that word
That fledgling bird
And the falling house across the way
It’ll keep everything
The baby’s breath, our bravery wasted
And our shame
And we’ll undress beside the ashes of the fire
Both our tender bellies wound in bailing wire
All the more a pair of underwater pearls
Than the oak tree and its Resurrection Fern
In our days we will say
What our ghosts will say
We gave the world what it saw fit
And what’d we get?
Like stubborn boys with big green eyes
We’ll see everything
In the timid shade of the autumn leaves
And the buzzard’s wing
And we’ll undress beside the ashes of the fire
Our tender bellies all wound around in bailing wire
All the more a pair of underwater pearls
Than the oak tree and its Resurrection Fern.
-Resurrection Fern
