the paper sits upon the step, the messenger already gone
and lillian sits next to it, and looks across the coming dawn
the type is bold enough to read, for eyes so tired and set with time
and lillian cannot believe, the photograph and bold headline
she leaves the step and lights the stove, she heats the kettle cracks the eggs
and from the porch the paper blows, it lifts and weaves and floats away
and lillian, she smoothes her hair, she sits to rest her aching feet
and up the old and oaken stairs, martha stirs and leaves a dream
she reaches out across the bed, finds the sheets are tucked and cold
she calls aloud for lillian, her heart it beats and strains and slows
and lillian, she climbs the stairs, she hears her martha’s ragged breath
she lies beside her calms her fear, it’s alright darling you can rest
and long they lay there side by side, the breath of two becomes the one
and down the street the photo flies, of martha and of lillian
and now the town it slowly wakes, unrolls the paper, sits to read
the news it travels cross the state, of hearts that struggle to be free
and from the front in love and tears, lillian and martha wave
the courthouse after fifty years, on their long awaited wedding day
beyond the step the day begins, the heat it rises from the road
and down the stair comes lillian, a promise kept, a band of gold