AS GOOD AS IT CAN BE

 

His pencils are resting

where they should be.

The green lamp’s light

is as good as it can be,

and the stain of coffee on the paper

is a superb stain.

His hands, flawlessly folded

in his lap, are wrinkled

in a wonderful way.

Alone in his perfect apartment,

he is just right,

a senior citizen with textbook baldness

and the great gift

of growing old.