Keene from Gabriel Kahane by Gabriel Kahane

Small town
New Hampshire
The edge of the air is cold
I found the answers here.

We watched
Her mother
The deadweight of her smile
And prayed she’d find her peace.

The bronze inside her eye
Begets another time
When she still had a dress
To hang her hopes on

Our bed
Held secrets
A window to what might be
And so we built a fort.

The dread
Of leaving
Our children at the yard
That they might not make friends.

Our daughter’s shining eye
Suggests another time
When she will have a dress
To hang her hopes on

We climbed up a shallow mountain,
catch a glimpse of God.
She thought that we might have found him
When we reached the top.

We drove
six hours
And wished we were still up there.
She knows
I love her
and that’s why she gets scared
the fear of growing old.

The blue inside her eye
Screams, yes this is our time
She’s wearing out the dress we hang our hopes on.

• Acoustic
• Alternative
• Folk
• classical
• Portland