Fuhr Rebekah

My love is like a peachtree
In ways I do not know
My love for her a secret I
I cannot show

My love, she is a beauty
The like mere eyes never see
My love, alas my love
She is not for me

In the Station of the CTA

Orange juice pools on the floor at my feet
Dripping from a McDonald's cup
No one stops to clean it up