The rain started falling round half past four
So I slipped inside a used bookstore to stay dry
On the shelf beside Kipling and Keats I found
An old chapbook of yours, it was leatherbound
I asked the guy, "how long has this been here?"
"Forever," he said. "It keeps coming back to us unread
It's a sin"
So I paid him the $2.99 that it cost
And sat down on a cushion near Robert Frost and dug in
There's a high noon and a low road
A slow smile and a deep wish
Drop a secret, or a stone, or a thought in the night
And I might know this
There's a slow burn and a thick wall
A new boat and a rising tide
Don't forget that when I knew you and thought you had gone
I was on your side
As the day grew long I read poem after poem
Your words worked through me and brought me home
I remembered when you finally, fatefully wrote one for me
After four years together in 2013, in December
I was wrapping a gift for your youngest niece
A diary with a lock, when I felt a piece of the wheel
Then you came in the room like a bird on the wing
And the way you were looking said everything
I couldn't feel
There's a sweet wind and a high cool
A hot dark and a soft night
Sink an arrow, and a heart, and a boat in one shot
But you're not alright
There's a bright room and a tight walk
A quick snow and a slow light
Sink your head into my pillow and stay in one spot
Cause you're hot all night
What are you so afraid of?
What mettle are you made of?
What simple candid shade of me are you afraid of?
What am I so afraid of?
What mettle am I made of?
What is it that I prayed I'd never be afraid of?