When A Thing of Beauty May Not Be a Joy
by W.D. Ehrhart I’ve been writing poetry since I was 15 years old. I’ve written hundreds of poems over more than a half century. That’s a lot of poems and a long time. But no poem of mine has ever troubled me more or caused me more difficulty than this one: Old Men Eating Lunch for Paige Once a month my pals and I eat lunch at the Amish Market in Mullica Hill. We chose that place because the food is cheap. And good. But we keep coming back to see the waitress. She’s always there, month after month, and such a lovely girl, always …