Ashland, Oregon


On past high mountains, lakes and cinder cones

I drove through Nature’s bountiful delights

To watch fresh actors rattle Shakespeare’s old bones

In Ashland, Oregon’s festival of lights,

Three plays in two days course I entertained:

The tragedies of Caesar and Macbeth

And one of snake handlers sacred and profane

A weekend stocked of pathos and grim Death.

No sooner there to Ancient Rome I flew

Careering to olde Scotland, then the South

No sooner there than Monday weekend slew

And back to work to tend this needy mouth.

Did I dream? Or did a waking fantasy

Jumble time and place for my eyes to see?


Ernest Cardenas

May 2002

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