Dragons bounced out to the curb
Or are those just green kilt splotches of the mayor's mind,
Or doorknobs on the cat that is Granny's ghost?
Maybe the street is sweating Christmas trees...
The holidays are over and I finally wrote to Swiss Miss,
A premium something of compliments and humorous hors d'oeuvres.
The city is beautiful, kissing the black and blue Hudson.
I have retraced my steps.
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