(pleased to post this poem by my pal, the philosophical, and whimsical, David Belmont)
when descartes
was 60 years old
he went to stockholm
at the request
of queen kristina
the curious monarch
had room
for philosophy
only at 4 am
in her unheated library
in the dead of winter
so rene
eschewed his habit
of mornings in bed
and strode thru the snow
in his pointy shoes
curly wig and
embroidered gloves
after several weeks
he became too cold
to think
and therefore ceased
to exist
poems for friends 
Love this! Thanks David and Harry.
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How deliciously ridiculous, hilarious, tragic. In the time of post Trump, pre Biden-seemingly never ending Covid, and with vague and distant possibilities of revolution, I beseech my philosophizing poet comrades-stay warm, dry and don’t cease…
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Well put my friend. You comment does the poem and the poet justice.
HK
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Fun, funny, touching and a mini-history lesson to boot!
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