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In the shadow of a water tower
I'd wait at some ungodly hour
for your to put the porchlight out
signal that your daddy had finally passed out
and we'd steal away
afraid of what we might say
we walked to the bluff
looked down at the lights of chattanooga
spread out for all to view
like the queen's jewels
your mother died
when you were nine
and your daddy
waged his own war on life
like a ghost she haunted the living room
in that portrait painting
with the same quick brown eyes as you
and we'd steal away . . .
that night your daddy called the police
claimed I was a common thief
though the deputy let me loose
I knew I could never rescue you
or steal away
with nothing left to say
about the lights of chattanooga
spread out for all to view
like the queen's jewels
