Ernest

Hirsute's been my inclination, 
beard, and mustache too, 
I've never liked to shave my face 
since I was twenty-two. 

Call me vain, I love my visage, 
even though I'm turning grey, 
Hemingway had nothing on me, 
even though he paved the way 

to be a model for my kind, 
though l can't be that man, 
yet I'll strive to look like him, 
and emulate him when I can. 

Adventurer, a big game hunter?
activities I don't embrace, 
the closest that I'll get to Ernest 
is the hair upon my face!
Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

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