Of the threads that run so deep?
Why the storm from skies so clearest
Brought a pain I cannot keep?
Who is Neal, and why the silence,
Why the toll of death's refrain?
Did his steps shake something fragile?
Did he leave more than his name?
Who is Farmer Bill, so steady,
In the chickens secrets lie
And the scruffy men, like echoes—
Are they whispers, truth, or lie?
Sue, the one with eyes that smile,
Blueberries cupped within her hand.
Are her dreams a light that lingers
In a world I can’t withstand?
What of Jill and Jack, the laughter—
Was it brittle, was it real?
Why the bar and all its shadows?
Tell me what it tried to heal.
And the old man—cane of sorrow,
Bearing weight the world once knew.
Is his journey one of endings,
Or beginnings yet untrue?