To Rita

One hundred years ago
The world tilted its approval
And you came upon the scene as
Margarita Carmen Cansino;
Much like the refreshing drink
You were just the right mix of ingredients
A little salty a little sassy
A vibrant classy lassie
Named quite well
For you.

Yet a look of melancholy
A hint of sadness
Adorned your majestic
Face;
Mr. Astaire was such a lucky man
To have met you—
You danced with fire
You kindled desires
Even a little boy’s
Especially mine.

A thousand times and more
I watched you grace the floor
And wondered if you
Were real or just
An illusion of
Perfection.

You aged with grace
Maintained that breathless face
Until the end
When that killer of dreams
Alzheimer’s
Snatched you—
And my screams
Can be heard even
To this day.