TO SANGRIA by Melody Earickson

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