What a Wonderful World, Louis!
Your voice, rough as the bark of a tree,
Threads through this lobby of hope.
Ablaze, like phosphor, at your words,
I glow above this book I am thumbing,
Beside the stove at which I am warming myself.
How strange is my life, my world -
One minute joyous, the next full of care,
Eyes brimming with tears - of laughter.
I am a goalkeeper,
Wary of strikers with no ball,
Seeing an infinity of blue emptiness
Between a clatter of legs.