Death’s now a specter, lurking somewhere near,
A factor of the cancer that resides
Within my depths, an ever-present fear
That, despite hopeful treatment, still abides.
Now, given this, what’s there that’s best to do?
Awakened to the brevity of life,
What hopes and goals are worthiest to pursue
Instead of passing time with idle trifles
Such as this . . . or is this something more
Important than a hobby, but an art,
A daily way of probing to my core
Amalgamating both my head and heart?
A record, at the least, I will have left
So those I leave may be the less bereft.