Olivia is a young woman sweet,
Who works at Evergreen Place on 15th.
Patiently she walks up and down the hall,
With the demented old and tragic smile.
We the bed-ridden have discovered,
The gifts she’s given to her grandmother.
As for me, I had forsaken all hope,
And rotted in bed, until I saw her.
And though I lie there still strange birds have called,
At my window their great migration-song,
And the magic of snow has invaded my dreams,
To carry me above the frozen streams!
Her face is of the moon – Olivia.
Her face is of the moon – Olivia.
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Copyright 2022 Jeffrey Merk
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