Classic Poem

The blue-eyed youngster
and the fat old man
play ball in me.
And music—
the one on his penny flute,
the other his bassoon.
Their toleration is most indulgent—
the one with grins,
the other with a smile.
When they are tired
they go to bed together
although their dreams—
the one dreams of solemn white beards,
the other of twinkling white legs.
The woman
who looks in on them at times,
careful not to disturb them,
likes this time best.
She rocks their cradle for them.