Masterpiece

There it is, finished:
The Sunday crossword;
how I laboured
and exulted,
probed my four-pound Webster,
played dectective,
sweated, frowned
and, proud,
laughed aloud.

Look at it:
full of erasures,
barely readable,
but complete
and correct at last.

At last
I can throw it away.

The above poem is one
of my favourites--
by Mildred Ann Hanin