The Acorn Follow

You lift your head from wild and wicked sleep
Where seven-headed serpents hiss soliloquies
While picking snails from the river of the valley
Don't see the storm clouds piling up so quietly

The rushing river rattlesnakes your legs
And baby boy's got you drinking from the dead
As you lick your lips and paddle for the levee
The sinking banks are sifting through your teeth

As you float up, see the river skins the valley

You lift your head from wild and wicked sleep
The withered river sputters at your feet
And all around the sound is slow and muddy
The sunlight scatters pennies through the leaves

As you wake up, see the river skins the valley
You'd love to wash this summer from your memory

You lift your head from wild and wicked sleep
Where seven-headed serpents hiss soliloquies
While picking snails from the river of the valley