Page 94
By Jack Joseph Smith
Chandelier
In the Autumn of nineteen sixty three
I would be walking through
Old Town Chicago
In the late evening
when the drapes were not drawn
Pulled rather way back,
right to the molding
of their threshold
Great bif natural glass,
stretched at their fronts
It was easy to see,
that short stoops
were a way into riches
Thuging under a new Moon
o
To theatrical to notice