In the roots of a sycamore tree where it had hid so long
And along its sides and teeth were written words
Kathleen, Mauvoreen Magnificat 'Your Cheatin’ Heart'
Before landing on the bone again
In a box made out of myrtle lay the bone of song
I ran my palm along them and I heard
The words on the bone of song were close and small
Then the bone was quiet it said no more to me
I am the only unquiet ghost that does not seek rest
Then I saw on a white space that was left
In the hieroglyphs of quills and quatrain lines
It said, leave me here I care not for wealth or fame
Lucky are you who finds me in the wilderness
The words that I sang, blew off like the leaves in the wind
I’ll remember your song but I’ll forget your name
Osiris, the fall of Troy, Auld Lang Syne
And perched like birds in the branches
A blessing written older than the rest
The bone of song was a jawbone old and bruised
With a lightness in my step and a song in my bones
The chords of a covenant king singing for the Ark
And though their tongues were dead, I found I knew them all
And worn out in the service of the muse
And as night had come, I turned around and headed home
Lucky are you who finds me in the wilderness
So I wrapped it in the ribbons of a sycamore tree
