FADING

April 1988   revised July 2014

You wondered if you would ever

complete a New York Times crossword,

now it’s routine like shaving,

better still, like your 5 o’clock martini.

You churn on the last word and aha,

the light goes on and a part of you is complete again.

Something is accomplished,

something to count as you total the gains and losses

at 11:30 when you switch off your bed lamp.

The paper lies on the table commuter folded

but that last word sticks in your mind

long after you meshed the horizontal and vertical.

You look out your ninth floor window

but you can’t make out the intricate design of Alwyn Court,

what you see is the fading word stuck in your minds eye.

The letters get more and more vague

causing you to hold your breath for a long moment.

You rise and walk to the window

as if walking will bring the word back

but it doesn’t help.

Try as you might to retrieve  it

you are left with a mind full of nothing but vast sky.