Le cahier de Montréal - Murray Hill

Sitting on a bench
Along with some foreign spiders
I can’t even care about
I look towards Leonard’s
Old house
I wonder Len, will you come visit
These old quarters
and will you
do it while I’m here ?
I can wait at the park a little longer,
I don’t mind.
The sun is high, the air is fresh
I don’t care about the odd spider.

(here it comes, creeping towards me -
comme d’habitude)

I’ve been to the old park house
And it’s spooky restrooms
They still smell like the winter of fourty-two
And look even older,
Only not as gracious.
Will you come ?
(Leonard, the spider,
We ought to name it someday)

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