He seemed an ordinary man, I think,
So silent and still across the street.
German, I was sure, and his name I was sure
Was changed from Holges or Heines
To the less offensive “Heller.”
I was rather in love with him, though he never saw,
Or seemed to, and was so comparatively old.
He and his brothers (there were no girls)
Had never married.
It seemed a shame, I thought,
To let that line die out.
Because he never saw me, he would never know
That we too had changed our names.
“Pessler” became “Parker”
And was written above our door
Next to our American Flag.
He had no name above his door,
But an American Flag was there,
Almost blushing, I used to think.
(How silly that is.)
How glad we are,
I am quite sure,
To live right here
(The home of the free.)
I only wish that when he came
Outside, he would once look at me.
(He never seems to look at me.)