Passing Afternoon

	  		Capo na 2ª casa. 

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There are times that walk from you like some passing afternoon  
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Summer warmed the open window of her honeymoon 
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And she chose a yard to burn but the ground remembers her  
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Wooden spoons, her children stir her Bougainvillea blooms  
   
There are things that drift away like our endless, numbered days  
Autumn blew the quilt right off the perfect bed she made 
And she's chosen to believe in the hymns her mother sings  
Sunday pulls its children from their piles of fallen leaves  

There are sailing ships that pass all our bodies in the grass  
Springtime calls her children 'till she let's them go at last  
And she's chosen where to be, though she's lost her wedding ring  
Somewhere near her misplaced jar of Bougainvillea seeds  

There are things we can't recall, blind as night that finds us all  
Winter tucks her children in, her fragile china dolls  
But my hands remember hers, rolling 'round the shaded ferns  
Naked arms, her secrets still like songs I'd never learned  

There are names across the sea, only now I do believe  
Sometimes, with the windows closed, she'll sit and think of me  
But she'll mend his tattered clothes and they'll kiss as if they know  
A baby sleeps in all our bones, so scared to be alone