Where do the good, kind-hearted go?

To lipstick smiles
left on napkins perfectly
half stuck on rims
where gin and tonics flowed 

Gliding long as fingertips
that tucked me into cool
crisp sheets in days when sleep
was easy, a keeperof shy adorations
nestled in young motherlove

Arpege, Pall Malls, show 
tunes, novels, husbands
in a row, loud laughing
midnight parties
turned to shouting
or big whispers
then to fragile mornings after

Scrabble, dim sum, Niners, 
Now to ashes dancing 
at the gate, not
missing one last beat.