Anne Clark Off Grid
Just me, and this boy of mine
Underneath a sheltering sky, by a railway line
Waiting for the wood to catch,
The damp twigs
The last match
Evening, passing time
Waiting for the moment
Waiting for a sign
Boy's up close, pressed against my side
Daze of rippling water, glimmering with light
Stars up in the stillness,
to the quiet, to the night
Howl of the wind, cry of the train
Inky black ball
writes the story again
Just me, and this boy of mine
Just me, and this boy of mine
Just me, and this boy of mine
