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an ode to aaron burr

March 10, 2012

A poem that I wrote for a friend of mine as a troll about a year ago, which was inspired by the artwork of C. C. Barton.

Early one July summer morning, the grass still wet with dew;
Aaron Burr faced Hamilton,
Below the towering cliffs of the Palisades.
Arriving by barge, ten paces apart they stood;
The mist of the morning sun hanging heavy with their fate.
In the dense Weehawken woods,
A duel between a cur and a gentleman.
Hamilton fired first, his trick pistol sending the shot high.
The scoundrel undone by his own dishonor,
A look of shock and surprise.
And there stood Burr, majestic, defiant,
With a glint of victory in his eye.
Burr, unwavering, returned the shot;
Hamilton reaping what he sowed.
His honor defended, his work here done,
Burr turned about in silence, and marched back towards the barge;
Whereupon seeing a coney eating a strawberry,
He wept quiet tears of joy.

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