We are sitting at a table in a bar in Baltimore
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It's the last night of December
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And the room is nearly full
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And the front door pulls a draft in every time it opens wide
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And you are telling me a story
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From another time and life
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And the waitress brings our order
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And we're tucked in mighty close
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And I feel like we belong among
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The living and these ghosts
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And I know that I am dreaming
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As I memorize each part
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In the telling lies a reverie
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In the details lie the heart
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Like the folds of summer dresses
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Like the scent upon my wrist
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Like the way you played guitar
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Like a boxer punches with his fist
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And taken or just lost to me
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It's better now to say
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I dwell in possibility
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On New Year's Day
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There's a jukebox or a bandstand
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And we're on another round
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And the night's just getting started
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Or the night's just winding down
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And your stories are not clouded yet by the ale
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Or by the gin
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They just make me feel as if I've known you
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All my life again
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Like the folds of summer dresses
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Like the scent upon my wrist
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Like the way you played guitar
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Like a boxer punches with his fist
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And taken or just lost to me
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It's better now to say
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I dwell in possibility
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On New Year's Day
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And this is what it looked like
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When we started walking home
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The night sky bleached to silver
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Against the city's bones
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In dreams or in our waking
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It's just enough to say
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Love and grace and endless flowers
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Be ours on New Year's Day
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And the folds of summer dresses
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And the bangles on my wrist
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And the way you played guitar
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Like a boxer punches with his fist
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And taken or just lost to us
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It's better now to say
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We dwell in possibility
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On New Year's Day
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New Year's Day
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| Mary Chapin Carpenter |
