I go out to dinner with Cathleen.
We’re both in our dotage, so-called.
She will live to be a hundred.
If I’m lucky, I’ll be back tomorrow.
Tomorrow was the fourth day of a year
that began with Don Quixote.
You must admire the old gent’s pluck,
his remorseless fight for justice.
On the second day I read Shakespeare
and marveled at Chimes at Midnight.
The third day ended in the dark,
where I dedicated these words to you;
then went to ground, where tremors are,
defying indefatigable odds.
(3 January 2014)
copyright 2014 by Floyce Alexander