found your name across the chapel door
carved in cursive with a table fork
muddy hymnals
and some bootmarks where you'd been

the shaking preacher told the captain's man
the righteous suffer in a fallen land
and pulled the shade
to keep the crowd from peeking in

we found your children by the tavern door
with wooden buttons and an apple core
playing house
and telling everyone you'd drowned

the begging choir told the captain's man
we all assume the worst the best we can
and for a round or two
they'd gladly track you down

we found you sleeping by your lover's stone
a ream of paper and a telephone
a broken bow
across a long lost violin

your lover's angel told the captain's man
it never ends the way we had it planned
and kissed her palm
and placed it on your dreaming head