Dear Barbara
I had a dream
That you still lived close
That you took your drive away
Every day
And that our distance was
Just imaginary

Dear Barbara
I bought you a book
That you'll never see
And you
Wouldn't do the same for me

Dear Barbara
I thought of you
I thought my writing
would get through
I thought that if you thought of me too
Maybe I wouldn't be blue

Dear Barbara
I've gotten old
I write like a drunk
I can't remember good
Maybe
...