It's a new level of age
To forget that the weather changes day to day
And as she looks out behind curtains much older than I am she comments on the rain
"Like blood,
Splattering sidewalks
Drenching us in sorrows
Sylvia
My Sylvia
High noon and her heart was in a novel of faraway lands
I miss her more than life
I miss her more than I miss the sun"
But clouds always pass
And the murder scene patios dry up under the lights
Removing any evidence that we'd been soaked in gods wrath
And I can remember her asking me about God
Clear as the day that breaks after a storm
She leaned in close
Breath hot from sherry and eyes a little wild for a woman of over a thousand full moons
"What do you think of God?"
I was struck
Never once had her lips spoke of anything holier than thou
She told me that God was a woman
Stormy hair and ocean eyes
"And I know she's waiting for me
Sprinkled in the mist
Hidden in lunar beams
I speak to her sometimes
But never does she coax me closer into the dark corner of this room
But when she does I'll be ready
Thin skinned from age
Ready for flight."
But she hasn't come yet
And you sit in that chair looking out that same window as the conifer dances in the breeze
And at night you cry yourself to sleep
Cursing that God who took your baby from you
"If she is a mother-
Why does she bring me this grief?
I want to hold my Sylvia
I love my Sylvia."