Ode to the Red Sox written by Kate Troy, FMB, FL The air just a tough sultry This November late night Outside my bedroom window The orange Jasmine just planted After the Hurricane The usual hypnotic night sounds I am well planted and thrive Yet I am Boston My tears prove it Shed not for the eighty-six years of defeat But for the one year of triumph That my father never witnessed He missed nine/eleven too Tit for tat. In the midst of the city Near the University and the bars A park with diamonds And a green wall Miraculously emerges Out of nowhere A haunting vision The house that Ruth abandoned One may ask Kevin Costner Is this Paradise? No, Kenmore Square. Are you quite sure? A dog barks not mine Mine sleeps with a huge smile Spread across her silly face Dreaming of the turkey to come No Pilgrims landed on these shores Just Spaniards seeking to stay young And they came to the right place Their map as accurate as the Hurricanes I have not aged these past fifteen Florida years I am Boston Behold my tears.