Friday, October 6, 2017


    A number of old men stood in a
    Circle and sang by turn.  I was
    New there and stood aside.  I knew
    Them all and was surprised they
    All could sing.  Some were good,
    Appropriately supplying the
    Lower ranges, tenors handled

    The rest.  Even those who weren’t
    Good took their turns and were
    Pleasing to hear since I knew
    Them.  I could  take my place
    In the next one, knowing
    The words; yet knowing I
    Wouldn’t -- not willing to join

    This singing.  I would sing a song
    Entire though on my own. All 
    Those old men smiled as they
    Took their turns, and went on
    Smiling their joy as the night wore
    On – finally leaving as they ran
    Out – their last song fading.

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