ava

Ice and blue morning, colors of the Argentine, between Me, and the amber need, Ohio under snow, geese and barren tones, my hair appears to grow, white on my shoulder, sloping, honking, to the New Year, am I lucky, or just at ease, why I fought so hard, to stay with you, standing in the yard, like a GI goon, you sang to us, back in Brooklyn, the year Lady died, it's quiet here now, fifty years later, i still hear the laughter.