I was seventy-seven come August,
I shall shortly be losing my bloom;
I?ve experienced zephyr and raw gust
And (symbolical) flood and simoom.
When you come to this time of abatement,
To this passing from Summer to Fall,
It is manners to issue a statement
As to what you got out of it all.
So I?ll say, though reflection unnerves me
And pronouncements I dodge as I can
That I think (if my memory serves me)
There was nothing more fun than a man!
?In my country?, he said in a soft, steady voice, ?they used to burn widows to death on their husbands? funeral pyres.?
??Used to? is the operative word, I hope?, she answered lightly, masking the chill his comment sent through her.