The Green Pajamas

When Abigail Was 17

We flew across the wild terrain Her red hair bled into the sun The strands across her snowy skin I remember every one And so too her pale blue eyes Softer than the summer sky That gave away no mystery On those days when we would fly And in the warm and starry night She’d come through her window I’d taste the salt upon her neck Still smelling of her pillow We might walk in the moonlit wood Maybe to the river She, the older, whispering Of the strange things I could give her When Abigail was 17 They hung her high above the street We looked upon her twisted form Watched her cracked and dirty feet Swinging in the setting sun Drifting in their madness And I was gasping for the air Sucked out in crushing sadness And I’ve never ever known Why they didn’t come for me And I was able to grow old In sorrow for a love unseen But I knew things they’d never know And I saw things they’d never see And I went where they’d never go When Abigail was 17 When Abigail was 17 Away, away Three crows then four And fly us our Abigail Safe to the shore _______________________ by Jeff Kelly (c) 2007 St. Brigid Publishing BMI