Trimming the Crust

Waking in the sun-foxed
Hospital afternoon,
One more comatose nap,

You recalled visiting
Nonagenarians
On a bright day like this,

And how often grandma
Had told you she didn’t
Want to end up mindless,

Motionless, strapped to bed,
And yet, there she was, pinned
And vacant, and you thought

As you recollected,
(Since you could recollect,
Still, such a luxury),

Maybe you're plumb lucky
By a couple decades.