For Monnie who has today faded away
Rest in peace, sweet Monnie, maker of portraits, gardens, and living rooms. The Great Train Monnie across the street believes She’s travelling in a great train And travelling far; Tonight she dines in the dining car, The meat is sweet but the soup is thick and tastes a little bit like tar, all the same, you come too, she softly croons, patting my hand while through the glass her gaze remains on the changing plains, the clearing rain, the stars, the stars, the stars. (first appeared in Think Journal)