Saturday, January 28, 2017


                    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.