Joan

tonight,
i was going to go home,
tonight,
i was planning on drinking alone,
but somehow
i ended up
at a jazz place
with a frank sinatra look-a-like
and he sang
until tears ran out of
his brown
not blue
eyes
i sat next to a woman
not girl
who was 65
she was interesting
somewhat distracting
and more informative
than all of you combined
she is wrinkled
and old
13 minute older
than her sister
we talked
and smoked cigarettes
a classy lady
that puts all of you to rest
joan
you are sexy
because you have a brain
and it's unfortunate
that i meet you now
at 65 years
35 beyond your prime
your husband died
and you battled with cancer
but your opinions
your hopes
your humanity
won me over
and you asked nothing of me
but to be your friend
and damn if i'll be
someone there
that will learn
that will listen
until
you whisper your last dying breath
and it might seem awkward
to you who don't understand
but woman like joan
are what makes
a man
a man
i wish women now
could have that kind of loyalty
that kind of fight
that kind of fierce
underrating laugh
that tugs at my inner being
a true women
in the sense of the word
a women who's had everything
lost it all
and now wants
nothing
more
than to be adored
and have her head
rubbed
until
she fades into sleep
a women
a definitive
being