Just before I dash away to work,
I check the mirror for my smirk.
Yes, the smirk is there. I’m retired
and I can dash away or not at all.
Yet out of habit I grab my coffee,
my phone, a pen or two,
a notepad, and head for the door,
stopping for a moment or more,
to throw in an extra dash of sugar.
My coffee has to be extra sweet
in case the president calls to remind me
that I’m not so perfect either.
That is a real possibility because I dash around
telling every new friend I’ve found
that our country is still sound as a dollar,
at least for one more day.
July 3, 2017
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