Little Treasure
Your onset struck my fancy, and I got;
No right writ to recount it all;
All just good way off blow-by-blow;
No too many days to tote up;
No too many days to recall:
Your dad, sure, in the taste of myriad,
Never was scoped a dad;
Never was better than the woebegone comrade;
Your dad had the streets;
The…