Some days her shape in the doorway

Will speak to me

A bird?s wing on the window

Sometimes I?ll hear when she?s sleeping

Her fever dream

A language on her face



"I want your flowers like babies want God?s love

Or maybe as sure as tomorrow will come"



Some days, like rain on the doorstep

She?ll cover me

With grace in all she offers

Sometimes I'd like just to ask her

What honest words

She can?t afford to say, like



"I want your flowers like babies want God?s love

Or maybe as sure as tomorrow will come"