passing afternoon.

Passing Afternoon

by

Iron & Wine


There are times that walk from you like some passing afternoon
Summer warmed the open window of her honeymoon
And she chose a yard to burn but the ground remembers her
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

here it here: www.myspace.com/ironandwine

I can't even begin to say how much this song resonates with me. It is like this man took my diary. Especially the third stanza;

"And she's chosen where to be, though she's lost her wedding ring
Somewhere near her misplaced jar of Bougainvillea seeds"

Catharsis, I know, it's just more catharsis. Why can't I ever be over this. Did I keep so busy that I never got to feel it enough to get over? What more can I do. Yes, there is a baby in my bones that is still so scared to be left alone. I hate that this song did this to me this morning. But maybe this is just what I needed to hear, to read, to feel... precisely at this time, this morning, this moment.