we found your name across the chapel door



carved in cursive with a table fork



muddy hymnals



and some bootmarks where you'd been







the shaking preacher told the captain's man



the righteous suffer in a fallen land



and pulled the shade



to keep the crowd from peeking in







we found your children by the tavern door



with wooden buttons and an apple core



playing house



and telling everyone you'd drowned







the begging choir told the captain's man



we all assume the worst the best we can



and for a round or two



they'd gladly track you down







we found you sleeping by your lover's stone



a ream of paper and a telephone



a broken bow



across a long lost violin







your lover's angel told the captain's man



it never ends the way we had it planned



and kissed her palm



and placed it on your dreaming head