Text: The Black Atlantic. Walked-On Wood.

Last night you were running errands with dad, in his car
Tied the ropes round the fence
And saved a ewe flipped on her back
Come morning, the house was full of strangers
You stood out, like knots on old, walked-on wood

One bumped off the ladder
Another moves a rung
I can feel the summer in this current

Behind your shoulders, he looms
What can you say?
When winter is lodged in your throat