The Bitter Wind

(for George) Same thing every morning Same thing every day They make you do more mileage For slightly less in pay Monday storms the embassy Wednesday stays the course Friday caps the highlights Of another Big Divorce But I’m not givin’ in To that bitter wind No, I’m not givin’ in To that bitter wind There’s a dead deer on the roadside A suitcase on your steps A body in formaldehyde A contract on your debts Symbols of dissolving And symbols of decay Things have stopped improving Ever since we parted ways But I’m not givin’ in To that bitter wind No, I’m not givin’ in To that bitter wind The painter checks the window: There's nothing there to see A meadow full of ashes A barren, wasted sea When did we stop looking With the eyes were intended? Will we bond with this bright city Only after it has ended?