I must tell you all
about the last luscious light
burnt-yellow still burning
in the tops of tallest maples
scraping the tip of blue night
while alive at the other end of sky
hangs the moon manicured frenchly
whiskey sweet a spirited sprite
burns the tip of my tongue
Chagall 2015
I’m sorry I have not paid a call
the weather’s been harsh and what with
time on the march
and all
All send their love
as they did that last day
Days we set out
in search of the heart,
so much good in the world, we’d thought
Expect we will see each other
soon
After all, dear Sara
is far too long
© Chagall 2014
Alphabet City 