Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                                            A Tattered ****

                                   Cf. Shakespeare, Sonnet 2

Scene i: a lawn chair beneath a shady oak

Okay, sure, sometimes I feel like a tattered ****
After my morning’s work, creaking into my chair
And reaching for my iced tea and a book
Sipping on both for a vision of youth

My Hercule Poirot body is made almost young again
By strolling through Arden with Rosalind and Orlando
(Only for a while; they would much rather be alone…)
And then the iced tea tells me of Ceylon

Okay, sure, sometimes I feel like a tattered ****
But sometimes - forever young