Some stuff went down this weekend and it’s going to be moony around here for a while. I hope that is okay.
Airport security was so polite,
But I suppose they see that all the time —
A red-eyed woman, a departing flight,
A license photo hard to recognize —
And I kept my composure ’til the gate,
Remained discreet, economy 4A,
But cried in earnest on the Interstate
Because a song belonging to you played.
Today, the same, but know that what is gone
Was not left on the M60 or plane,
But in Virginia, a James Taylor song,
And my head on your chest for the refrain.