Don't know what good it'll do.
I don't observe the holiday, as whence
Joe's calling oer this weekend in detail
Meant just that, but did not. Four days t'avail
Us, lo I see now, signifies good sense
Where Monday is a work day, Tuesday thence
As wont likewise, for me--haha on frail
Complaints of silence. All 'non waxes pale,
Nor can I figure what, for all intents.
Winds turn the Maple leaves backside in tour
Til white blinks at the gathring clouds thin blue
Drowns warmly in, and I am dull as twere.
My brother's touring Europe now, to do
Whatever good. I dreamt of fishing, poor
As thinking I'll be yours, Joe: ya, what's new?
After all, men have remonstrated with me both to my face and not, about thinking too much. Our beloved aka the Monkey did make a dent, once upon a time.