True, there's no harm in crying for one's husband, and the tombstone, though plain, was a solid piece of work, and on summer's days when the widow brought her boys to stand there one felt kindly towards her.

She whipped up the cards on the floor, extinguished an unglobed candle, and ruffled open the pages of Claude's copybook.

Personally, I enjoy the challenge of this jig-saw puzzlery but oh, how I long for a few neat clerihews of four or five lines, some vivid haikus with their seventeen syllables, or a tiny one verse gem.

2018, Daniel J. Hopkins, The Increasingly United States: How and Why American Political Behavior Nationalized, The University of Chicago Press.