Left only is the echo of the water’s laugh
The birds’ little whispers still can be heard.
The moon isn’t full, it’s only half
Sun’s clear rays have been made fuzzy and blurred.
Melody misses Harmony-her friend
Nightime longs to hear the old barn owl’s hoo.
Memories, oh memories those fine grains of sand
Escape between your fingers to the beating of the band
Murmuring in harmony upon a demure heart
Oh what a lovely pas de deux in which we find our part
Rows of fleeting smiles and a million bluebird skies
Standing in the middle of the stage
microphone taped to my face
singing my heart out
Handcuffing the mass murder who
has been loose for decades
lowering his head
into the cop car