Dry pine needles in my grain
Waiting for a summer rain
Old cedar skin in desert heat
Resting where the pebbles meet
I catch the yellow porch light glow
Watching all the headlights go
A wooden hull on sandy ground
The brightest gold that can be found
My ribs are curved like Salix leaf
A patient kind of wooden grief
I hold the salt of distant seas
While shaking in a Santa Fe breeze
The motel paint is peeling white
I mirror back the halogen light
I dream of loam and river bed
While stars spin circles overhead
I catch the yellow porch light glow
Watching all the headlights go
A wooden hull on sandy ground
The brightest gold that can be found
No current pulls my heavy frame
The desert wind forgets my name
I soak the warmth of amber rays
And count the slow and steady days
My varnish cracks like desert clay
I watch the tourists drive away
Rooted here in a gravel lot
The only water that I got
I catch the yellow porch light glow
Watching all the headlights go
A wooden hull on sandy ground
The brightest gold that can be found
Cedar and gold, cedar and gold.
Resting on the sandy ground.
