UPON ENTERING YOUR NONAGENERIAN YEARS I got spurs that jingle, jangle, jingle— and I’m glad to no longer be single since my eyes glommed on to you and swept you off your feet onto my horse as we rode bareback for over 65 precious years. We rode over the moon and up and down the Catskill mountains, until we rode around and around your beloved silo. You were like an even-toed wide-eyed antelope, herbivorous and gentle to the core. You were one of a kind, and have never lost the magic and glitter of your luminescence. I blew flamenco tunes on my silver Selmer trumpet as you danced to the rhythm of your castanets. The purity of your embrace warmed the cockles of my heart. Every breath of yours continues to breathe life into me allowing me to feel as alive as any man would ever want to be. You deliver wisdom of Krishnamurti and Wu-Wei, and will always be a radiant light to show me the way home if and when I ever get lost.