I have the mystical madness
But I hope my children definitely don't

Maybe a marine biologist
Maybe the madness won't

Lead them to write poems
Deep into the Night

They can work ordinary jobs
And have spouses that don't fight

Walks along the beach
Basketball with friends

Cookouts, picnics, quietness
Joy that does descend

Like moonlight upon Elliott Bay
Misty all over Seattle

For them I wish these good things
And for them I go to battle