The hat is just the touch she needed—
straight-brimmed straw, leopard-print band.
If people think it doesn’t match her
jacket, forest-green, let them eat their cake
and mind their own business. She feels good
today, she feels good, with her friends
from Morning View, all four together
around the bookstore cafe table, drinking
their cappuccino. She doesn’t need to look
at the walker beside her, or the white-clad
girls hovering behind, much too near.
It will be time to leave soon enough.
She looks at Sarah, silver-haired, splendid
in long black dress replete with flowers
embroidered, multicolored. Sarah’s feet,
so they could get her here, demanded tennis shoes.
No matter—Sarah’s smile could light the room.
Their friends, the other two, are dressed
more fitting to what they are—old women
on an outing, their attendants standing by.
But she, she’ll fling her hat into Death’s face
before she’ll give in quietly. Meanwhile,
the company is good and the refreshment sweet.
