windy road
Down to the church house
Singing hymns
“he is all that is smooth and unpainted”
“are you smooth are you painted today?”
no, she’s opened her blouse
to the mail man and his letters
send him off first class
he’s a paper doll
but who’ll sing the lullabies
who’ll bake the dreams
in her apple pie?
Bicycle
she’s our friend
you take her home now
tuck her in close her eyes
turn on the sugarplums
I’ll sing the lullaby
I’ll bake the prayers
in her book of light
don’t ask for me
I’ll send her my love through a rosary
still stringing beads
and counting prayers and wishes
until she sees me

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