The Night of the House Fire

by Ava Marie

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released June 3, 2013



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Ava Marie Poultney, Vermont

5 piece Indie from central//western Vermont. Collections of songs constructed from the memorable remnants of reoccurring dreams, and early childhood. We talk in our sleep and miss the ocean.

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Track Name: Alma
you were born
on a crescent stone
bereft and blithe
weft and warp
womb and loom
ash fell upon your cheeks
like static from a streetlamp
like snow upon the sea
oh little darling be brave
for the night has come
oh be so brave
for i cannot see the shore

there are banks of ice
and hollow hills
vast notions where the white birch
grows wild and ancient and free

beyond that there calm
eclipsed in ink and ribonless print
it was there i stirred
just beneath the surface
and like all things true
lay adrift between shadow and skin
Track Name: Wicker bones
oh my little birch bones
and an oak sewn spine
or a sparrow sewn in stone and draped in silver
preserved in a ledger bound by dew and ivy vines
a spool of thread and an old rusted thimble
and all that the sea had left behind
so i wove myself a millstone house
with wicker bones and pitch stained sails
and a heart that only beats it 3/4 time

so sing me to sleep
where her ghost spills out as steam
from the heart of an old railroad car
where our daughter lay beside you
in the moons crescent cradle
and you smiled back at her
and sang go to sleep
and when you wake it will be spring
Track Name: Oh crow oh yule
oh day oh harvest of such certain thorn
oh crow oh yule oh lenten born
auger and olive i felt a murmur soft and sound upon my skin
oh ghost oh shapeless echo asleep in my skin
what has become of you
oh wilted womb do you still carry her
cause i still carry her
and your bookshelf was burning and the embers lay at your feet
and all that ash made you wonder if it was better off as steam
and your back was bare and you bore burls down your spine
and i waded along its ridges and cavernous calibrine
and i wrapped myself in a worn wool blanket
though threadbare were it seams
and i waited for sleeps stippled sails
here at the end of all things
beneath a bouquet of branch and pine
was a bound cassette and a whirring tape deck
and a voice that softly scribed oh please do stay
there is no where else as safe
as where the loons song calls home the night
and you dance to the crest and collapse of accordion keys
as your mother smiles so very bright
for beyond her pale eyes
nothing else exists
besides all you've left behind
and the home you've cursed then missed
the tape sputtered and spun
and ended as it had begun
in an eclipse of light and warmth
and you wept oh you wept for the son sailing west
for you knew he would never again reach the shore
and i dreamt oh i dreamt of a story without an end
where our hair had grown so very long and grey
but you smiled the same and i knew you in the way
you would hum in the late hours of morning
in the weight of piano keys
and the way she said the words goodbye
i knew you or at least i seemed to
with all your binds and bones burnt in a jar
do you still carry her
cause i still carry her
Track Name: Hither
will you stay will you stay
through the static snow
for the world to grow quiet
we'll wade out into the Atlantic
and those promises will remain shapeless as smoke
and tomorrow oh tomorrow i will find my way back to you alone
i'll walk out to montauk somewhere we've never gone to
somewhere the winter wont ache inside your bones
somewhere morning wont bloom
it wont bloom
where the sun sinks and settles so far from here
and those auburn strands spread thin across your palm
stained your eyes with such telling tears
the paralysis of a promise you kept
in glass mason jars by the foot of your bed
a storm the dawn wouldn't quell
prayers were whispered to shells
and lost in the tide
and your charcoal ghost kept mostly in ink
in diaries and ash in boxcars spread thin
across stranded shorelines
and sunsets ill never know
where a woman waits with a lantern and calloused feet
from straying to far from home
Track Name: Dark eyes
it will be dusk soon
the moons silver lining
hung in the hollows of your cheeks
the night feels so different here
spread so thin so far away
the size of a thimble or so
and it knows only what the crows leave behind
a tarnished bronze locket
from a withered breast pocket
lost amongst the moss and vine

and your hands were bound in nuptials knots
not to be undone by time nor the cease of breath
and your gown had torn in rows of thistle and thorn
felt as coarse as the bitter bark that stained your teeth
and they called you something
though the lament of language no longer belonged to you
nor to the water in your lungs
nor to the last words carved into your palms
nor to the twine wrapped around your wrist
oh i wont ever know you now
dark eyes i will never know you now
i know only the gentle lull
of a sentiment-less river
never stirring to forget
never eclipsed in glass long enough to remember
and i know only the weight of twine
and the temperament of fearful men
and the brush just off the foot path
that the dearest of artifacts so often stray to
and that armageddon sleeps in the softest nests
where the world is often quiet
Track Name: The night of the house fire
and its a quiet ive kept
a ship preserved in glass
buried among driftwood and ash
and an antique typewriter missing half its keys
and your skin scored from stone
it was there i felt the end
in two waning crows
stitched from golden thread
and from the corners black ink it bled
and from its descent
you hew and hemmed
and stitched and sung
the word dusk