That was the year there was no spring
Winter melted into autumn
and the grass was brown
That was the year Horace Vandergelder
Ran off to the big city with Hilda Green
and Sylvia Plath committed suicide
That was the year I realized there
Was more to life than wheat fields
and Aunt Bessie's pippin apple pies
That was the year my pa, drunker'n usual
Went into the barn with my new shotgun
and I had to clean up the mess
You know, blood don't come out real easy
From the handle of a Browning
and I wanted to cry
That was the year crazy Jimmy Crawford
Recitin' lines from 'Seagull' finally cracked
and jumped off the Higgins Memorial Bridge
That was the year there was no spring
Winter melted into autumn
and the air was crisp.
R.Michael Fierro
28.9.83
