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Veiled by the screen door
Kit bag in hand
Tiny squares of shadow stacked
In the shape of a man
The last leaves of Fall
Have followed him home
Like a conference of whisperers
Hoarse as a stone
The winter vine
Powerlines
Strung so low
They slice n dice the sky into
The cloudy quarter-acres
Call it home
Call it home
Call it home
We came to call it home
Chainsaw growl of baby
Smoke behind the doors
Glass of red and blues play'n loud
And then get up for work
Shards of plate that scattered
Like a burst of startled birds
Her belly, letters crumpled
All a briar of words
The winter vine
Powerlines
Strung so low
They slice n dice the sky into
The cloudy quarter-acres
Call it home
Call it home
Call it home
We came to call it home
Veiled by the screen door
Ombres Chinoise
Curtains part discreetly 'round
The cul de sac in dusk
There's fire in the oven
The walls bear the frames
Like teeth of colored photographs
Bright and unafraid
The winter vine
Powerlines
Strung so low
They slice n dice the sky into
The cloudy quarter-acres
Call it home
Call it home
Call it home
We came to call it home
