Brackish Grace

[Verse 1]
The last clean jigger sweats on the bar mat,
Third Tuesday of a rained-out June.
He orders Bulleit, she just lets him pat
Her hand, and hums a half-forgotten tune.
Her knuckles white around a glass of water,
A fallow field of promises he broke.

[Pre-Chorus]
Then the spine goes straight, a sudden cypress daughter,
She breathes the damp air in like kudzu smoke.

[Chorus]
Do the salt-burned oaks remember how to bend?
Or does a root decide it's done with blight?

[Verse 2]
I remember him last winter, saying low
Her grandmama's gold band was "a bit much."
The condensation drew a ghost, and so
I polished out the memory of his touch.
He's telling some old story, she's not there,
Staring at the grain in the longleaf pine.

[Pre-Chorus]
And her reflection in the glass, a silent prayer,
Draws a covenant on a brand new line.

[Chorus]
Do the salt-burned oaks remember how to bend?
Or does a root decide it's done with blight?

[Bridge]
Her empty glass clicks down, a sound so spare.
"I think," she says, her voice a newfound key, "I'll take the air."

[Outro]
Does a root decide... it's done with blight?