Leora,
when you sing,


God comes and listens.



And your father,
red headed, 

red bearded,
full of joy and 

loving,
tender pride,
visits us.



Where he lives now,


in the heaven neighborhood of 

my own parents,
singing this good 

is still special.
Only humans made into angels

 know how to make those sounds.

Leora,


when you sing,


the clouds dance 

above us,


and joy, pride,
nachus,


is all we feel.