Pterodactyl (4)
Pterodactyl (4)
Clarence
was waiting,
Private Clarence Winters,
drafted like me.
Although we had grown up
in different worlds,
he on the Baltimore streets,
me on a small farm,
neither of us
knew of anyone
with money to speak of,
and we shared a love of
jazz.
But I cannot
go to him,
I have to flee.
Tom Simard 