Adventures in Still Living Still

You extend the opportunity
You have to live these days
As quietly as possible,
Accepting the challenge of being
Even quieter than you’ve ever been.

It’s a privilege you’ve gotten,
And you get that it’s a privilege
To be an old person, unmoneyed,
And hosting robustly advanced cancer
In a ship of brittle bones,
So long as you can be quiet and go on,
Mostly without much discomfort,
Mostly independently alone.

This is not sarcastic. This is not a joke.
This will not last, this tranquil passage.
Treat it like it is your home.
You had nothing on your schedule
Yesterday or the day before,
Nothing tomorrow for today.
For this little while, you’re drifting,
Watching. You don’t even have to row
Within this trough between the waves,
A trough that’s shallow, glossy smooth,
With low, green walls and light like glaze.

It’s your adventure, recently, to wait.
Your ship’s your quiet, windowed room.