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# Clink
- URL: https://dianaludwick.com/clink/
- Published: 2026-10-17T22:46:00.000Z
- Updated: 2026-11-01T23:47:37.000Z
- Description: “Clink,” a demi-centurian celebration, of a life lived in italics. Written Saturday, October 17, 2026 poem 290 in a series of 365 poems written by Diana Ludwick in 2026. Photo: "Bucket of Bubbles," by Diana Ludwick © 2026.
- Author: Diana Ludwick
- Tags: 2026 Poetry Challenge, Poem, October, Fall, Autumn, Birthday, Cheers, Tennis Bracelet, Reposado, Emerald, Headliner, Diva, Demi-Century, Fifty, Going on Fifteen

Bubbles arc up a wall,   
free-flowing from an emerald bottle.  
"Vintage 76," the marquee proclaims.  
Headliner: our star,   
our diva approaches her Demi-century.

Celebration is a foot: fresh nails,   
shimmery dress, feathery lashes, a ruby lip.  
She greets us, all bright eyes;   
sparkling like her new diamonds  
the night before she's fifty, going on fifteen.

The rumble of outnumbered male voices   
come from the corner, where they stand  
cradling cans and swirling rocks glasses.

Evidence of love from around the globe:  
Red roses across the way  
bloom in a wide vase,  
a gift from a dear friend abroad.  
In the other room, tables set up   
for family traveling here in the morning.  
  
But tonight, the neighbors play:   
Kaftans and kebabs  
Silk blouses and secrets exchanged   
Cheers and reunions,   
eyebrows arched over hot goss.  
Hugs and tears and group portraits.  
Passed petit fours; towers of pastries. 

A bottle of reposado passed palm to palm;  
we raise crystal towards ceiling:

> Here’s to the foundation,   
> to a good woman,   
> at the center of all that is right in this world.

Love thrums at shared frequency  
through each of our heart cavities:  
We are one in celebration, in gratitude.  
  
Rounds of hugs, again, again, once more.  
Waving hands goodnight,   
dishes shuttled to sink on the way out.

Shoes gathered, slipped on,   
a ballad of socks and soles in the foyer.  
Door glides open to autumn rain,   
cool drops moisten bronzer   
and dilute mascara.  
  
Moments ago,  
Croatian wines poured golden, zingy,   
into stemless glasses held aloft by eager guests.  
*To the Lady of the hour!*  
To the grasping of the moment.  
We raise another for those unable to be here,  
for one day we will all be gone.  
  
Heads drop back,   
eyes to drizzly heavens:  
Despite the stormfront,   
velvet darkened skies   
reveal astronomical   
gems glittering in strands,   
the universe’s tennis bracelet.  
As long as the stars shine,   
we’ll have this night lived in italics.