d’Artagnan…
is restless.
Once, he wandered onstage,
admired Cyrano’s quick blade
and cutting wit.
Then found a musket ball
at Maastricht,
and wandered off.
Some say mothballed at Wolder,
others wandering the New World,
mayhap Boston’s where he found his feet.
Perhaps soon caressing
a lover of books.
Wondering what she’ll whisper
when she dances
beyond written words.
Writer Moe 