I Tend Not To Think

I Am Ninety. Or Ninety-three. One Or The Other.

Although, Pretending Not To Notice Is Almost Worse Than Noticing.

I'm Afraid To Breathe In Case I Break The Spell

I Am Further Back, Surrounded On All Sides By Wailing Men, Their Faces Shiny With Tears. Uncle Al Promised Three Dollars And A Bottle Of Canadian Whiskey To The Man Who Puts On The Best Show. You've Never Seen Such Grief-- Even The Dogs Were Howling.

Life Goes On With Fragile Normalcy.