D O T A G E
Dwindling
His days longer, life shorter.
Long, deep sleep a rarity now
broken into snack sized bites ,
over day, over night.
Memories, fears, worries,
things still undone, people still to protect
All manner of things haunt him.
New pants raise the question
Cost versus time remaining.
On good days, there is no truck with the morbid,
Partaking gleefully of his jamun
vetting the dosa for texture
A whole life spent on the big picture
Never losing those delights
of the minutiae.
Gloom lurks behind the door
an ill-timed joke away
a mildly harsh word
Clamming up, the visage offended,
words minimal.
At dinner, he chokes
we watch, having seen it before
willing him to swallow, end this reminder of mortality
Surely the mighty banyan
will not be felled by a puny grain.
It is an immense shadow cast,
Will he be allowed grace and peace
In this too short,
and yet too-long
dotage?
