Sisters Talking
Rob Dickson
Sun painted stone blocks, long porch glasses turning
Walking to your house and the leaves were burning
Leaves were burning
You signed me up for mornings out tacking up horses
Laps under cold barn lights, steaming breaths and courses
Wrapped in Scotland
Sisters talking
Every time I closed my eyes
Clouds would fill my mind when I said goodbye
I still hear the sound of you
Reading to the room that adored you too
You helped your sister's family enter the country
Up from the south they drove six states on Sunday
States on Sunday
States on Sunday
Swapping the plates at dawn just south of the border
You packed the kids in your car and snuck them over
Snuck them over
Snuck them over
You must have loved the paintings of the Glasgow four
Your memories together all around
Tell me Margaret, Frances, will you walk again
In heaven fall down laughing on the ground
On the ground
On the ground
On the ground
Walking in the winter
Light clouds did fill the night St. Frances died
I still hear the sound of you singing me a tune in a Sun-lit room
Every time I close my eyes
Clouds they fill my mind when I say goodbye
I still hear the sound of you
Reading to the room that adored you
On the ground
Wrapped in Scotland
Sisters talking
Sisters talking
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