Shirley sips her coffee in a wine glass and doiley
While Jewel plays softly in the background.
The guitar replace by violins,
Shirley set aside for the ocean,
A bird skims the water in the pale sky
And I wonder if Murakami ever felt this way,
Sitting on his back porch with tea leaves and incense
Writing on scrolls in Japanese,
Watching spring sweep in.
Did he ever have the urge to jump his fence
And walk down his alley with the wind-up bird in the trees,
Walk away from the paper and pen he was writing with?
I wonder if I was ever lost.
Or open for peering eyes to see
Like street signs,
Magnolia and Queen.
Shirley in the afternoon.
Glenn passed through her mind.
She could hear his lies in the phone cords and ties.
I wonder sometimes,
Am I walking the wrong way,
Living the wrong life?