Third Family Portrait
It was the dead of winterThe cold was in our bonesAnd our shelves stood barrenAs we had ever known
So our mother stands on the porch one eveningThe silent crack in her stony maskShe looked up at the skyAnd said: "please"
And by the turn of summer we packed up all we ownedAnd with my mom and brothers, we started for the coastAnd I would count all the clouds on the wayAnd you and I would name themWhile the world around us changedAnd I remember askingIf the place we're moving would have more foodAnd my mother grew as distant as can beAnd mouthed: "please"
So I, so tired eyes, pay no mindThe river of time will drown these days out
It was the year just after we stood and watched the seaAnd my mom was smilingNo longer saying: "please"