Widows Walk - River Whyless

He’ll burry her in that old coat

Made of wool knit across her knees

On the mudflats off the stone coast

Her bottle broke the bow he took to the sea

While the others returned with their hulls full

She waited patiently

Twisting thread between her thumbnails

Oh the dread she held between her teeth

Her boy stands tall on the old wharf

Now he’s screaming, «Mother please,»

And she’s knee deep in the white surf

Waiting for her son to leave

Alone is the widow, the gulls and no mast to the east

And she’s the sheep he kept to stave off the grief

The pennies they saved only to place in her eyes

And the love that she gave to him and now she’s gone

She’s gone

He’s gone

So the boy let her leave