Humility
I flick my handerchief over my shoulder
In simulation of Caesar's red cloak, and
Imagine I am he and fit to be declared
Emperor by the doubting Senate.
Yet my pale square of cloth remains
Pale, and does not assume the hue of
Blood; the ironic destiny of Caesar's
Red cloak. No, there is no transformation
For I am not Caesar, and my simple cloak
Remains a lesser hue and I, ordinary.
Render unto Caesar, that which is Caesar's;
And Caesar is no ordinary man, though he
Proclaims it so and refuses a crown. My pale
Cloak remains pale, for I am no Caesar.
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