Winter at APT:  A Poem

A poem from APT's fabulous Facilities Supervisor, Justine Myers The deer were all nestled down in their beds, while visions of headlights danced in their heads. The lights have been hung on the paths and trees with care, in hope that our patrons would soon be near. When all of a sudden, there arose such a sight: a caravan of cars in the cold winter night. The audience had come with thoughts of holiday cheer, to see a great play with a message so clear. The Gift of the Magi is now open, my dear. With love like this you will most definitely shed a tear.