Happy Birthday Poem (For Tara)

There are bright bells I'll ring for your birthday.
A silver clapper will send a loud gong
into the valley of Brooklyn
with its bicycles and sidewalk chalk outlines
of soft hopscotch bodies. Did you know
there are birds out there whose only job is to sing
in that enchanting bird-like way once a year
on your birthday? Well, it's true. You are a lucky lady.
I'd like to have a job that involves celebrating your birthday
on the 4th of July from an airplane with a banner
streaming off the back that simply says "Joy."
That would really be amazing, wouldn't it?
When you stand with your back to the city
it's easy to imagine that the fireworks bursting in the air
above the East River are actually festoons of light
fastened to your hair. Oh, may the children always smile
when you enter a room. May the friends who adore you
surround you with affection.
May the low sky permit you to caress it
with your fingers like a humid kitten.
Oh Tara, I'm glad you got born today.
Happy Birthday!