A girl was in a wheelchair on her porch And wasps were swarming in the cornice She had just washed her hair When she took it down she combed it She could see Just like I could The one star under the rafter Quivering like a knife in the creek She was thin And she made me think Of music singing to itself Like someone putting a dulcimer in a case And walking off with a stranger To lie down and drink in the dark.© Ginny Stanford