Sixteen Pennies
An old crinkled piece of paper
Yellowed with age laid in a box;
Sixteen Indian-head pennies
(Their luster as if newly mints)
Were strewed atop the aged pulp.
Being a curious fellow
That I am (more aptly a snoop)
I slipped the old stationary
From the seemingly ancient box
And began to read its content:
Dear Master Robert Hemingway,
Enclosed in this small cedar box
Are the pennies you requested
Each dated eighteen hundred sixty .
Yours truly, Abraham Lincoln.
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