Weave Myself a Dress - Bruce Peninsula

The one whose shame is left too long

Is the one whose name is lost along the

Clear and shallow shore

A reflection in the water stays

The thing it grew upon is an ashen sail

No more

Turn straw to gold how can you hold

Onto the courage to own a name

To think of raising up out of these seas

The thing that I will raise up is a dress I weave myself

Of freshly plucked anemones

So collect the flowers

In the shallow water all along the shore

And take them away with you

The eye and a reflection of an eye

Is what that flower sees

A space we’ve learned here too

Turn straw to gold

What can you hold onto the courage to own a name

To think of raising up out of these seas

The thing that I will raise up is a dress I weave myself

Of freshly plucked anemones

And I’ll be in the water

See my hand come through the water

And their eyes do close up tight

And when they open again a sail is born