Goldenrod and the 4H stone
The things I brought you when I found out
You had cancer of the bone

Your father cried on the telephone
And he drove his car into the Navy yard
Just to prove that he was sorry

In the morning, through the window shade
With the light pressed up against your shoulderblade
I could see what you were reading

All the glory that the Lord has made
And the complications you could do without
When I kissed you on the mouth

Tuesday night at the Bible study
We lift our hands and pray over your body
But nothing ever happens

I remember at your mother's house
In the living room when you touched my neck
And I touched your blouse

In the morning at the top of the stairs
When your father found out what we did that night
And you told me you were scared

All the glory at the top of the stairs
If he raised his hand, I could pull his hair
And kick him in the face

Sunday night when I cleaned the house
I found the card where you wrote it out
With the pictures of you mother

On the floor at the great divide
With my shirt untucked and my shoes untied
I am crying in the bathroom

In the morning when you finally go
And the nurse runs in with her head held low
And the cardinal hits the window

In the morning in the winter shade
On the first of March, on the holiday
I thought that you were breathing

All the glory that the Lord has made
And the complications when I see His face
In the morning in the window

All the glory when He took our place
But He took my shoulders and He shook my face
And He takes and He takes and He takes

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