Mrs. Patterson Sang Along

Lyrics

The chalk dust settled.
The light from the window was the color of old honey.
On the desk, a single plate with the memory of a strawberry cake.
Bouba held the hymn book. Kiki leaned in to see.
And they began to sing the first song we ever heard them sing.

Latitude forty-eight south,
Where the wind speaks low and the sea has a mouth.

Just a rock and a sky and a light in the gray...

Latitude forty-eight south,
Where the wind speaks low and the sea has a mouth.
Just a rock and a sky and a light in the gray,
And this is our home at the end of the day.

The bell on the desk doesn't ring for the tide...
The books on the shelf... have nothing to hide...
The ink in the well is a dark, patient blue,
And it waits for a story both honest and new.

Latitude forty-eight south,
Where the wind speaks low and the sea has a mouth.
Just a rock and a sky and a light in the gray,
And this is our home at the end of the day.

And in that moment, the dictionary didn't matter.
The coughs, the corrections, the long, silent afternoons... they all fell away.
There was only the sound of three voices in a small room,
finding a word they all finally understood.
A word like 'home'. A word like 'enough'.

The last of the light touched the brass of the bell.
Mrs. Patterson smiled.
She just... smiled.
And sang along.