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Waxahatchee

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Waxahatchee

Rose, 1956

Sharp hangover, it is Christmas Eve
It fades and evaporates
Passing the trains and lakes and trees
Your breaths are short and urgent and it is unsettling

You got married when you were 15

Now I hide out from telephone wires at Waxahatchee Creek
Your body, weak from smoke and tar and subsequent disease

You got married when you were 15
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No miscalculation, each other's only living means
Your arms wane thinner
Your legs surrender
Sunlight probing, it is christmas eve
No stitch of shade, we pass by lakes and big mimosa trees
Your breaths are short and urgent and it is unsettling

You got married when you were 15