A gymnast and
A Miss Arkansas contestant
In her college days
Now with a twisted spine
A painful artificial hip
A metal rod in her thigh
Lou was ninety-two last week
I hear a familiar refrain
“What day is today?”
“What is your name?”
With salty wetness
On her wrinkled cheeks
Her story unfolds.
“No more Sangria with your lunch,”
Says the daughter who seldom visits.
“You’re going to ruin your liver.”
So today I am bringing her Sangria
And crystal glasses
And fresh flowers
And treats for her ancient, crabby cat
We’ll toast to a life well lived
And as for tomorrow, who knows?
But today she will have Sangria
And I’ll listen to her stories
Though she doesn’t remember my name
“Here’s to the future, Lou,”
If only for today