The doctor told my daddy
He's got weeks to live
He came straight home to tell my mom
And us hungry kids

With not a single penny saved
Down at the local bank
My daddy made his way out back
And started digging his own grave

He picked the sweetest resting spot
Underneath the maple tree
So when the leaves decide to drop
We can rake in his memory

My daddy winked and said all this
With the biggest of his grins
Coughing up a spot of blood
We decided then to go back in

Things are mostly quiet
Around here these sad days
Ever since the hand of death
Put my daddy in his grave

I'm now in that maple tree
With no one to push my lonely swing
Thinking of my daddy
Waiting on those dropping leaves

her ring sits on the mantlepiece
worn thin on one side
that dull warm yellow
that gold sometimes takes on

i remember it cutting into my hand
as she held it tightly as we shopped
it was bright and shiny then

she used to wear it on her  longest finger
after dad left us, she left it off for awhile
and then wore it on the other hand

it was tight on her workworn hands then
she took it off again before she went into
this last home, but kept it locked in a security draw

now it sits on the mantlepiece, waiting
for me to find a safe place for it
for it is the little bit of my mother's spirit
that will one day be part of my son's  wedding ring,