It's time for bed. Most of a cocktail is staring at me,
Saying, "I'm your friend; stay for a while, and celebrate
What you haven't been able to know until now:
The peaceful silence of being alone."  I see its logic.
I cleave to that glass. It's not as if I'll sleep that well.
People my age never do. I do not harbor expectations
That tomorrow will be fine. Choosing present over
Future, I lift my friend to my lips, and, joyfully, I sip.