A walking shadow

(For Lizbeth Dresden)

In these uncertain times of confinement, Shakespeare comes to mind, as well as my Professor, Dr. Crowther, of the English Department at Duquesne University, who urged us to memorize great passages from the Dramas of William Shakespeare. Today, after 33 days of internment, and many years later, I awoke pensive, reciting in my mind the following words which  come very apropos:  

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,

Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,

To the last syllable of recorded time;

And all our yesterdays have lighted fools

The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!

Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,

That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,

And then is heard no more. It is a tale

Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,

Signifying nothing.

Take heed, may I say!