Cry me a red, red river
A river of dust and bones
Of hearts that bleed and shiver
From broken and bruising homes
Blow me a kiss of willow
To echo a mourner’s moan
The ache of an empty pillow
Another child’s fate unknown
Cry me a red, red river
To fold me within its bed
And comfort the cares that slither
Through thoughts of unending dread
Bring me a message, finding
Too late what you had to face
My anger a knot, a binding
A coiling of thoughts that race
Cry me a red, red river
Reflecting a distant star
A chorus of souls, a quiver
That calls to me from afar
Paint me a cold moon rising
Surrounded by frozen waste
Still warmed by a hatred, blinding
For victims that leave no space
Cry me a red, red river
From words that no longer mean
An end to the dreams that linger
Its path a forgotten scream
Soothe me to sleep through Winter
To wake in the roar of Spring
With gifts that are carved to splinter
Where birds cannot bear to sing
Cry me a red, red river
And lay there upon this shore
The past where I long to wither
And hold you again, once more
This was written for the Red River Women.