we 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