June 6, 2019RSVPWilliam Stafford

Ice melts in your glass; then

the glass melts. This party disintegrates

like sand when the tide comes in.

Your invitation was white, and pink.

It had flowers, and lace.

Nobody warned you it was

a pill you shouldn’t take.

“Your money and your life,”

the fine print said, and smiled.

By midnight your face goes blank

with loss: your time, your name.

And then at the window at the last—

the lost face of your child.