From off the rack I choose a card,
Upon which lies an old yew tree,
A place to write “wish you were here”
And send love with my best regards.

The sun gives way to cloudy gray
And clouds begin to shed their tears
The stall shields me from autumn rain
So under its shadow I stay.

The wind begins to howl and blow,
The poles around me start to strain,
Scattered droplets wander in
And spots upon my postcard grow.

The thunder cracks, I hear its cry,
A shiver runs along my skin,
I grip the card against my chest
As bolts of lightning split the sky.

I hold you there, you stay with me,
An anchor, and yet my life vest,
I feel you there and hold you tight
As all around us turns to sea.

The wind tries to rip us apart,
The cold sinks in its teeth to bite,
The rain falls harder where we stand,
A storm to rip you from my heart.

Then suddenly, in darkest low,
I feel upon my back a hand
And turn as thunder halts its call
To see a face that I don’t know.

I tell them, yes, I am okay,
Just caught within a sudden squall,
I wipe my cheeks and blink my eyes,
Like the water was washed away.

I take a breath and feel the pain
And healing’s curse I recognize.
I look down in my hands to see
A postcard damp with autumn rain.