Tag Archives: ghostly young woman

Atlantis Guitar

The freight train rumbles by,

as I drive to work, still dark.

I thought about the bad dream,

finding a headless angel in the park.

I sit in my car, time to wait here,

drinking too hot gas station coffee,

listen to that mournful Atlantis guitar,

and try to head bad breath with a toffee.

That headless angel is being put

on the freight train, express to Groom Lake.

Someone might take a picture in Santa Fe,

but no one will be grieving at the wake.

A ghost can’t make a night stand still,

and the one with me, she just plays that song,

that Atlantis guitar, from when she was young,

when she could say in peace there was nothing wrong.

Softly, She Sings Of Paradise

Mary in white has come out in the dark.
She softly sings of paradise.
The stars are as weary as her of this road.
Who is coming down the road tonight?

Mary sings that song, love ballad and hymn.
Memories in mist of her man, spring formal.
That song for them and their very first kiss.
Someone will come along, get her home.

Mary gets in a boy’s car, she’ll be home.
She is silent, he pratters on. She’s impatient.
She wants home, warmth and her man.
So lucky someone came along this night.

The boy gets her there, but house is empty.
He turns, and Mary’s gone, nothing stayed.
His heart races, cold sweat, hurries home.
Mary is waiting for another to take her.

The stare are as weary as her of this road.