An old man now, when he wakes up
his body is so stiff, sometimes sore.
He thinks to himself, maybe early
rigor mortis is setting in.
At times he sees himself as just
waiting to die.
At other times he likes his shrunken,
reclusive life.
Sometimes he wishes death would
just get it over with,
take him out of his waning life.
At other times, he’s enjoys the little
pleasures of what remains of his life.
All the time he’s more keenly aware
of the impermances of this life.
And he accepts that he is temporary
as well.
And he’s okay with Death coming to
take him him away, any time, any day.

Bob Boyd