I’ll never leave Landisville,
realm of round steak & letters,
village bereft of gossip & antiques.
In winter, the roundabout ices over,
the A & P shuts down at six & pools
of incandescent light soothe whatever
can be soothed. Out of unbreakable
loyalty to Landisville, you light my pipe
& I your cigarette as coffee cooks.
What notes shall we pluck & hum?
So much remains the same we may
not speak, your black hair taking all
the light. We can do whatever we like
in Landisville, oasis of mandolin,
cinnamon bread & crayons.