Yes I know a good stick so often and then
a stick in my ribs in my heart your old
sprouting havoc
and now I’ve stood for what I never should
The last thing I ever wanted was to
write again about grief
did you think I would your grief this time not mine
oh good grief enough is enough in my life that is
enough was enough I had all those
grievances all those griefs all engraved
but would you believe I found
your old woody heart sprouting
I thought I’ll stake my life on this old stick
I’ll stick,
and we talked into the morning and night
and wouldn’t you know it you were a stick
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