Green Fields and White Mountains - Richard N. Ahlstrom

Green fields where I walked when I was young man, in these Green fields where I plowed as a farmer, in these Green fields where I fought when I was a soldier in these green fields Coat of arms and a man with flowers Pink and smooth against the snow Top floor of the building rent is cheap and the stove's included A chimney black and bricks of brown sternly standing in the fog Monday noon but could be Tuesday fields never know the difference Now I'm dreaming about Normandy Now I'm remembering the fields I knew Peering through the dusty slats at anything I care to see Six floors up and all is well, as well expected to be The man with flowers straightens the little room that he calls home Pots and pans hang on the wall and wait to be abused by him Now I'm dreaming about bombs and blood Now I'm remembering the things I did Green the windows far away A mile or two I'd dare to guess A banker or insurance man would know the meaning of this outrage Beds of asphalt sheets of clay and all the things that go with wisdom Coat of arms and the man with flowers plays his bagpipes in the dark Now I'm dreaming of St. Christopher Now I'm remembering a summer morning