About the Ides of February

This comes to me, this old thing. A smile I have forgotten to wear. Do not look too surprised. See, I tried to shake it off with anger. Tears would have proved useless, so I abstained from squeezing them from my eyes. Then the choice of laughter, the only improbability that still made some sense. Yet there was no denying such an impervious pleasure. Acknowledge: my students have gotten themselves enemies. Hurrah for them. There remain things a friend could never teach them. No matter how perky, how depressed, how hostile.