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.