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Writing novellas, beloved Swannanoa
Say the words just chose ya
Daughter of a doctor
But you can't fix this part of
The plot that you gave up

When we were children
Nothing yet determined
We were empty chapters
Maps not filled in
No fears or tethers
A pair of young wayfarers
You made it all seem clearer
You're not a coward, either

Delicate rebel
Brilliant and feral
Show me every vowel
Black Mountain basements
Keep you from doorsteps
Address the unrest

When we were children
Nothing yet determined
We were empty chapters
Maps not filled in
No key is a (?) for us aging archivists
I made sense of the madness
With a broken compass

Will another let it bring us light?
Is there only fiction in the fall?
Will another let it bring us light?
Is there only fiction in the fall?
Will another let it bring us light?
Is there only fiction in the fall?
Will another let it bring us light?
Is there only fiction in the fall?

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