To paint myself into
my own imagination 
I stare at the mirror
to catch sight of the stubble
I can only feel.

I’m in a state of wonder.
How have I come to be here?
Alone, but not lonely
I tell myself.
The chairs are my companions,
and I’m having an intimate affair
with the dining room table.

Brian, Helen & Dr. Hue
are all gone. Temporarily
they each in turn exclaimed.
I wonder.

Still I get out.
Mondays I sit in Felicitous Cafe.
The waitress looks like Penelope,
gives me the same goo-goo eyes.
Thursdays is for Lettuce Lake,
natural gem of inland Tampa Bay
where Brian & I romped around
with alligators and osprey.

Tonight I’ve caught a chill,
a little fever perhaps.
Another glance in the mirror,
a few sips of Brandy,
the yawns begin,
elusive sleep is near
until I’m struck 
by a lightning bolt of fact,
I’m a great-great grandfather.