Backslide

A whittled bird called the hour from her home made clock.

Backslide

Margie had a big house
on a bay with a breeze
We took long walks with her dog
on a path through the trees.

And her memory sinks down
like a stone off her dock.
A whittled bird called the hour
from her home made clock.

I’m avoiding the backslide
Living on cigarettes and rum.
The bus stop is a roadside
My ticket is my thumb.

I bought five dollar slippers
explored the tenement streets.
I smiled for pocket change
and got blisters on my feet.

And her memory sinks down
like a stone off her dock.
A whittled bird called the hour
from her home made clock.

I’m avoiding the backslide
Living on cigarettes and rum.
The bus stop is a roadside
My ticket is my thumb.

Sitting on an mountain rock,
I looked out across the range.
You’ve got make the best of it
when you life is feeling strange.

And her memory sinks down
like a stone off her dock.
A whittled bird called the hour
from her home made clock.

I’m avoiding the backslide
Living on cigarettes and rum.
The bus stop is a roadside
My ticket is my thumb.