Ashland

In July, I collect stardust

And text dust

I linger in Shakespeare’s shadow

And who knew

He had a home in Oregon

I walk along his stairs

Finding myself hovering in front

A trio of theatres, tall witches

Brewing a cauldron of magic

Each performance, enticing

Crowds from every corner

And I follow in suit

Getting lost in the magic 

That makes me want 

To not return home