Between the Risks

your six-string pickings are familiar like little red wagons

and white gravel drives or pedaling past barn skeletons

to Shirley’s grave in summer, self-taught on the few days left

to be young.

.

at fifteen I asked the nighttime forest to adopt me

into a broken clock religion of firefly rites

and boundless chapels housing windows shining

across midnight ceilings.  I was baptized

by the high sweet voices you gave me

and crucified the glaze on my eyes,

throat ringing harmony.

.

for years I could only love the things you loved

without hesitance, my heart was your heart

and it walked around outside me, burning

and humming strains of genius.

.

if there’s only room for one song when my

synapses are misfiring finally,

I want it to be yours:

.

d  a  b  g d

f#  g  a  d

c  d  g  b  d  g

a

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2 Responses to “Between the Risks”

  1. dusty Says:

    that is an awesome song Layne

  2. Sarah Says:

    very well written!

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