Lunch with Shirley
by Judith Viorst

So sometimes I wake in the morning and I’m thinking
That this could turn out to be my last day on earth,
So I’d better start savoring every precious moment,
Each and every relentlessly precious, relentlessly
blessed moment
Of what could turn out to be my last day on earth.

This is very exhausting.

So, I’m thinking today I’ll just have lunch with Shirley,
And we’ll share the Caesar salad and the shrimp,
And talk, through our decaf espressos, about everything
and nothing, nothing and everything:
Our marriages, thinning hair, gun control, the grandchildren.
How many times we get up to pee at night.
The coming election, our book-club selection, whether this
lipstick’s too bright.
And does eating a pickle really help with leg cramps.

We’ll bitch a little and laugh a lot and gossip more than we should,
Trusting there’s nothing it isn’t safe to say.
And I’m thinking that lunch with Shirley on an ordinary day
Would not be a bad way to spend my last day on earth.