This is for them, wide-eyed or drunk or mad
Who called me ‘Angela’, who played by ear,
Who did not stay, robust, in my dull life,
But fell before the dark time of the year.
I wish I had laughed longer at their jokes,
Twanged mandolins, been brave. But I am here.
My lesson done, beside the light’s cracked door
I play all love dictates for them, by ear.