Classic Poem

What I reckon now is:
He was lucky. Oh, not
in the ultimate loss,
but the sheer sum of it —
having that to forfeit.

Old Fool, you will say —
Old Fool that he was
for the slant of an eye
and the swirl of a dress
and the swell of a blouse. . . .

Oh, granted. But this
you can't take away:
that he sojourned in bliss
for a year and a day
come what may, come what may.











By permission of the author.