Newspaper Pane

She looked at the pictures on a newspaper pane That was taped to the window, to keep out the wind To keep out the rain To keep out the nonsense and block out the needing To keep up her spirits with improving reading But the ink from the columns Dissolved down into the stain On the bare wood floor that extended to the door Pictures of bright futures somehow ignored Had offered her finery she could never afford Tempting out savings that she didn't have or could never risk Not a fashionable kindness, it was grotesque The beaus with their fiddles played "The Rascal's Release" We toasted to valor and wished there were peace Six months later in a newspaper margin They were all cut down in a cavalry charge Weeping Miss Imogen said to her priest "I gave him my virtue, it was the least I could leave him On the eve of departure Though I will long for him now and hereafter" And the child I'll be raising may have his blue eyes What if he grows up and dies On some distant, unnamable hillside or field 'Cause a king and a concubine put a mark on his shield Thomas tomorrow, Thomas no more Father and sunshine, beyond and before William, who brought his drum home from the war To beat it for young lads whose days didn't even add up to the score I don't spend my time perfecting the past I live for the future 'cause I know it won't last A bent note on a horn I can't play The ghosts in the window that I can't wish away Freedom to be reckless, freedom to plunder Freedom to dream, freedom to wonder When you get where I am now you may feel differently The cliff drops away, sharply falls into the sea No work today, no hope tomorrow No bread for breaking, no wine for sorrow Nobody is selling, no truth for telling No work tomorrow, no work today Look at that child bride and her ideal bouquet Boys pick up a rifle, that's too much to pay Count out her teardrops Wipe them away