lullaby

 there is no doubt that she is your woman
when she sings the long black veil
of folk medicine down over your son
his belly ache and fresh teeth
rustling rogue winds over the hills of night

and she lets you sleep
a rest we've never seen

he'll cling to her comforted,     finally
and she'll sneak the few winks allotted
before our boy breaks with dawn

then we will father awake another day
him, again with the smiles
me, all right with everything