Merry A. Berg
In the day time he sat in bright light.
In the night he sat in pitch black. Between 9:00 a.m. and 9:00 p.m.
He was mauled, wiped, donned by them. Yesterday a beautiful girl came by.
She almost gave them a try. Behind her a senior man arrived.
He also gave him a try. Of all that people see and hold,
They wish to wear something bold. Yet there he sits lonely, dark, brooding.
Hanging by a small bracket, foreboding. Until a lad should happen by and declare,
"Oh these are c