REALITY: Eye of Bat and Posies

Fell asleep and never wrote about
the Second Moroccan Crisis of 1911,
nor found out who must leave Palau.
Full of Eye of Bat, or Eye of Round and gravy
from a committed Thursday night dinner
with a lonely friend. 
It used to be Tuesday nights, then Sunday afternoons,
then for a couple weeks, every morning at six a.m. 
But late weeknights is when it’s worst, he says,
when he misses her the most. 
He’s learned the little things that count,
the things he wished he’d done and yet
she never needed. 
I smiled, kissed him goodbye and cried for twenty miles. 
Came home with my Thursday night bouquet
and escaped to sleep.