Black eyed Susie

sitted in the balcony,
I watch the snow falling down.
In the back an apalachain folk in the radio,
in the front the same busy city.
Listening 'Black eyed Susie' and 'Shady Grove'
seeying the beacon of stop and go,
over the balcony's table I find the book I read last autumn,
in the radio only
Doc Watson, David Holt and Bassie Jones and Cas Walling and Dellie Norton
in the bottom the intense stupidity of the war between cars and people,
and the dark turns white to imediatly turns dark again,
the steal guitar amuses me,
"I love my wife, I love my baby
Love my biscuits sopped in gravy..."

I close the window,
and start my await for the spring.

Ottawa, Winter 2009.