Radiant Blues

by Mara Jebsen

5b1aa08c9551b3dababa2e7c186fbc11Woke up this morning, the moon wasn't right.

Woke up this morning, the moon wasn't right.

Sharp as a blade, and she slung to the right.

Woke up this morning, the moon wasn't right.

Carolina, I miss you, miss your crackle-whipped pines;

Miss your bread-rising breath, thick-sweet like old times;

And I miss your lying photographs, your freshly buried crimes.

Caroline, when the moon shines I miss you.

Shake loose the yam-dirt where the shadow lays down.

And wake the white girls in the colored gowns,

And wake the cruel and quiet towns,

Where the lace and knife lie mute.

And a long stare loops over miles of road

Faceless and numb as any old moon;

I don't want these dreams of blood and light;

Don't want this hanging in my doorless room.

Carolina. Carolina, stop all that howling,

Its getting too late–its a full, black morning–

You're strong, and you're safe–and you know

I can't fight you. But Carolina, tonight

Let me sleep without you.