Between a comic opera at Teatro Nuovo
and a field trip to Charlotte so long ago

there ought to be a lasting connection.
And yet all I have is a faulty recollection

of Professor Rupert Barber, whose class
in theatre appreciation I failed to “Ace.”

Clear memory remains: he’d schlep us off
to any Queen City curtain call of Chekhov,

Broadway show or (8th wonder to behold?)
an operatic romp like The Barber of Seville.

So I guess that means I have come full circle:
shaved by a barber, twice blessed by a miracle.

Joined by fiends, both near and far, for an entertaining show.