Cynthia Richter

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My Fifer Boy

My fifer boy, hanging on living room wall,
You're not so tall
But, how nimbly your fingers fly
over your fife
How expertly you blow into its holes
the sounds of naivete and freedom issue forth
Ecstasizing me.

I adore your apple cheeks
The peach fuzz on your forelip
Your dark eyes dancing with your tunes.

What lilting air did you play
to arouse your battalion's battle fever?
though humble of birth
you moved my earth

My fifer boy
hanging on living room wall
If your innermost thoughts you'd disclose
My heart it would gladden.

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