Benjamin Franklin was 81
when he signed the Constitution.
It is said that when he did so,
tears streamed down his face.
His body, so deteriorated from gout,
required a younger man to hold
his hand as he wrote.
Barely able to walk, Franklin was
carried to and from the hall by four
prisoners from the Walnut Street jail.
Is it such a stretch to imagine
that the same man who carried him
would serve as his aide?
Is it such a stretch to imagine that out
of the thirty-nine signers, one held
the heart of a founding father, but
the strength of a convict?
Did he know what history he pushed as he guided
that liver spot hand?