Life shapes itself
around illness,
walks become
a cup of tea
in a cafe,
or a matinee,
or a video in
the afternoon.
Something you
never used
to do.
Downtown art
openings are too
far to go.
Dinner guests
more work than
there is energy.
Life slips away,
as it always does,
as it always has,
an inch at a time,
except in the long
look back,
Silk shirts
need ironing,
you switch to
cotton tees.