The faithless hound hides underneath the bed,
Thus showing more sense than mistress and master,
For Dashiell Hammett hit it on the head-
Nora and Nick are quick, but Asta’s faster.

My parents, married thirty years and counting,
Diverted by the antics on the screen,
Are laughing, now, as always when surmounting
Their troubles, filling every day between.

As mine and mine join in the merriment
I can’t not be aware we share the room
With two great pairs, each for the other meant,
One caught in spring, and one in autumn’s bloom-

Should our sparks strike that brightly some time yet-
Then, like them, we’ll be counted fortunate.