Way down in Missouri where I learned this lullaby,
When the stars were blinkin' and the moon was climbin' high,
Seems I hear voices low, as in days long ago
Singin' hush a-bye.


    Corrina May

    Her back to the camera
    pale hair swept
    and curled below her knees
    like the Nodaway River
    on a honey hued
    Missouri afternoon

    below her picture
    I rest her silver mirror
    on my dresser

    worn and smooth
    the handle speaks
    of Purple Martins
    in prairie grass
    rustling in June

    now she sleeps
    on a bluff
    not above the river
    but the Pacific

    and when my hair becomes
    dull and fine
    as this sterling mirror
    I'll see her image in the glass

    then we'll dance like sisters
    to the Missouri Waltz.