Hour Glass

                (for Erin Moran)

And, in the silent fall, from glistened heights,

the glittered entry, glitz, of curtain call,

once listened, an audience, in enthrall,

of glimmer, whence, came, the end, of bright lights?

And, now, the distanced glow, fills up, the nights,

eviscerated, in the barroom, pall,

ah, those were, the happiest days, of all,

who shall hear, their laughter, in my last rites?

And, I, Richie’s sister, live, in the past,

the dizzied pal, she, of Fonzarelli,

he, the fifties, Elvis, in the cast,

were it, we recreated, on the telly?

And, now, as the shimmer, dims, at last,