when i moved back to new york
in 1996 – with a new born parker in tow
preparing to start a new show
i needed a publicist

i met with only one
lois smith
a legendary powerhouse
founder of PMK

i walked into her office
looked into her sky blue eyes
and had to catch my breath
she was the spitting image of my nana

we talked for hours
about life and babies and show biz
turns out she lived in the next town
we soon became fast friends

many sundays she would stop by
on her way to salon z at saks
we zip over in her suburau
and scour the sale racks

we had many sunny days on my boat
in the hudson
her husband gene telling us the history of the area
why west point is – where west point is

she loved her clients
with a fierce loyalty
and a huge open heart
that went way beyond show biz

never without her bright red coat
she could be easily spotted in any star studded crowd
she was by my side as i rode the fame roller coaster
holding my hand thru the scary parts

2 weeks ago she called
“ducks” she said – hows the ticker?
she berated me for not coming to visit on plum island
she asked about my kids

she was one of a kind
and her death feels like a dagger
although 85 is a long life
hers was not long enough

returning to the 4 seasons one night in LA
after i hosted the grammys
she opened the limo sun roof
lifted her champange glass and said

“here’s to u world”

she taught me how to live
and how to love

i am not so sure what happens
after we leave the flesh behind
but i hope she is back with marilyn
talking about old times

as nora looks on
taking notes
lois had so many stories
what a movie that would be

this death thing
is impossible to get used to
i hope my heart can withstand it
sorrow is killing me