Diagnosis

Diagnosis

Diagnosed with a terminal illness
that I also call life I know
this sickness will surely
terminate in my death.

Death:
it has walked beside me
for more than seventy years.
It has gazed back from my mirror,
as I shave my face, and part my hair.
It has lain its head on the pillow
beside me as I lie in bed.

We have shared so many things:
the soul’s dark night,
the winding ways of life’s
once infinite, now soon-to-be-ended maze.

Now, arm in arm, life, death, and me,
an intimate ménage à trois,
we are running a three-legged race
while carrying an egg in a spoon
and playing life’s ultimate game of chicken.

Comment: Look carefully at the second picture: you will see the fish he has just caught, sideways in his beak. These photos are from the bay at Alberton in PEI, taken about two seconds apart!

3 thoughts on “Diagnosis”

    • Good snowy morning here in NB, Polly. Covid-19 certainly hasn’t helped and yes, I have lost couple of friends, not here, but on the other side of the country. It certainly makes one more aware of what the Stoics and Neo-Stoics were saying and thinking. Our certainties have suddenly become very precarious. Watched the last two Wales games: played 2, won 2, red cards to the opponents 2. Even against 14 men they needed to ride their luck, especially at the end, against both Ireland and Scotland.

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      • Am so sorry to hear of your lost friends Roger, Covid or not the randomness and suddenness of how people are taken always leaves a scar. A weekend of no rugby this week then back at it. I think Wales have been very lucky so far! So strange without the crowds, without the match day buzz in Cardiff

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