Where have the colors gone
my red red rose? I will come to you again.
Beyond this Ulster town, the wind blows yellow leaves around.
Fare thee well my bonnie lass.
Fare thee well my blonde haired love.
Your pale eyes have lost their blue azure.
Fading to winter grey skies as your love does.
Ninety nine miles down the Hudson River
in my red kayak, never looking back,
to the valley, leaving all my winsome ways,
For brighter busier Brooklyn days, only sung about in Saugerties.
You stand on the bank flying blue kites with evermore tails,
Yelling “get back, get back.” Later, With your bike on your
Back you bound up the stairs. Up up and away you go.
My red kayak floats into the harbor and dances for the shark
Who swims at the feet of Lady Liberty, and I am liberated.


About m.a. wood

writer, thinker, musician, teacher
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