Stone-black little lizard on the fence outside
The kitchen I grew up in for most of my life
Knee brace and crutches like a fable with a punchline
Day bright as the birds on the wild ceramic sky

Train runs for miles and I know every pace
She chased me through her backyard with flour on her face
The things I denied myself still took up so much space
But memory makes circles at the end

I am again

Cowboy, hill-runner, you turn the sage white
Freezing your head so your soul never dies
Bombs that bought our freedom, the lawns that drained them dry
Powerful men alive again as freeway signs

I don’t like it either, but it swallowed our lives
We were pearled up on the half-shell of your barricade drive
Canyon, can you show me how to give up my power this time?
Memory makes circles at the end

I am again
Memory makes circles at the end