Spanish Moss - Matthew Logan Vasquez

Spanish moss hid our names

I never thought I’d see you again

When you left us, I wept so bitterly

Too young to meet your end

All the pain down below

It’s the heat that gets me low

All the summers in the ocean

The friends I used to know

Sometimes the razor’s edge is wide

Sometimes the gray defeats the white

Sometimes my sorrow turns to blackness

As if I had the right

In the back row I sit

Quietly listening

Somehow I heard you talkin' to me

I fell over then