Still Round the Corner


Hard earth, pale light,
He's gone home tonight.
The wind lies still about me while
My throat is thick and tight.

'So desolate,' the words were said,
'So desolate and fair.'
They might be writ about him
As I left him sailing there.

But now my road's before me
Through the hills of Shireling farms.
She's a-waitin' by the window
With our daughter in her arms.

For the story is not over
And his chapter's not the last.
The mallorn tree is growin',
Our future from his past.


S. Judd / '03