I’ll be a fool for you,

your private donkey

in a dark coal mine,

and find my way home

to you.

When you’re blue,

I’ll play Bix Beidebecke

on my vintage silver horn,

bathe you in warm milk,

and untangle every knot

with a shiatsu massage.

I’ll always give you a red rose

when there’s snow on the ground,

and, if it rains, I’ll lead a parade of one

banging on a big bass drum.

We slow down like “Red Hot Mama”

in a windup Victrola.

We draw a breath to find out

if we’re still here.

Since time will soon stop,

we cling to each other.

When you are silent,

I will listen for the breath of God

as I wait for the last tick of the clock.