Chanson Antique Poem by robert dickerson

You helped me ring the New Year in
you blew the whistle in my face
you set the paper hats in place
the tavern rocked in general glee.
your voice was like a flutes' low note
black and fathomless your eyes-
lovely, lovely youth was yours
and unacquired grace and poise.

Later in a strangers' flat
our love struck sparks into the night
cordially your form bent back
the palpitating candle light
I gave you kisses soaked with Pims'
you held me close-O God, I died-
we slammed our beakers down, 'the year
is dead, long live the year, we cried'.

Still later by the Broadway line
we lingered trembling, loath to go
the vapors of our blended sighs
drifted through Loves' afterglow;
the higher stars, impervious
blue fires in a frozen sea
forgot our vows if e'er they heard-
the train took you away from me.

Today the sky is mild and blue
all snows receded from the land
a gentle petal rain succeeds
I think of you this flawless, grand
May morning, may we be forgiven
all dissemblance and deceit
and may our hearts be thrashed and driven
home to happiness so great.