Black River

Yesterday she was pulled up from the river
Wearing a silver bracelet and a bucket of stones around her pretty neck
Holding an empty canvas to a mirror
I picture myself alongside of the girl on the bridge the morning of the fall
When she was staring into a hollow abyss,
reminisced slipping into the cold black river
Silent capercaillies by the rivulet
hovering, the highland lass
Waning in the holler by the silhouettes
Everyone you know shall pass
never to feel comfort in the arms of a stranger
Howling from the heathers in the gloaming mire,
through clammy and slender paths
The billow turned the birches to redundant snags
Unavowed we stood like icicles in the black river
Stop, my little child!
You won’t get further than this, I see you smile
Under the frothing abyss we reconcile
We’re pestilential and vile, the both of us
Let’s get together and dance into the void until it stares into our soul
So hush, my little child!
Come join the purgatory trip through your denial
Among the carpenter bees and honey pies,
we’ll see the home that you left
You were a child
I was your daddy back then
So splendour tender when the morning slipped into your dream
Scarlet tangerines, taffy pullers, butter beans and baseball figurines,
forever and ever buried under the cold black river