Tar-black water laps the gunwale wood
Concrete pillars rise like cathedral beams
Tire hymn hums above the saltwater flood
My oars keep time with half-remembered dreams
Salt and asphalt kiss beneath the span
Tide writes psalms no hymnal ever planned
Gull cries stitch the sky to rusted steel
Two quiet strangers learning how to heal
Peeling paint flakes like old offertory plates
Barnacles clutch where candle wax once clung
Headlight halos sweep the water's fractured states
My throat remembers Latin verses unsung
Salt and asphalt kiss beneath the span
Tide writes psalms no hymnal ever planned
Gull cries stitch the sky to rusted steel
Two quiet strangers learning how to heal
Rope fibers fray where calloused palms once gripped
The overpass shudders with eighteen-wheel prayer
Current pulls us past what scripture equipped
We harmonize on humid salt-kissed air
Salt and asphalt kiss beneath the span
Tide writes psalms no hymnal ever planned
Gull cries stitch the sky to rusted steel
Two quiet strangers learning how to heal
Anchor finds no purchase in the silted dark
But we don't need a harbor to call home
Fiddle swells where evening shadows embark
Two voices weaving where the wild geese roam
Salt and asphalt kiss beneath the span
Tide writes psalms no hymnal ever planned
Gull cries stitch the sky to rusted steel
Two quiet strangers learning how to heal
Salt and asphalt kiss beneath the span
Tide writes psalms no hymnal ever planned
Foot tambourine fades
Last chord breathes like amen
