you're a mean old daddy but i like you

papery leaf hurdles for the sunshine make breezy patterns on the floor. there's a shade across the front of the house already, green leaves and and blackly greener grass and mud, the shadows of bush and branch.

we're off to the windy city with hoodies in hands. no laundry or dishes for nearly a week. swimming clothes and a box full of books to stuff in the car and we're nearly there already.



time to play and sleep and read and write.

maybe i'll go to amsterdam, maybe i'll go to rome
and rent me a grand piano and put some flowers 'round my room.
but let's not talk about fare-thee-wells now, the night is a starry dome....

carey, get out your cane and i'll put on some silver....