We fell in love by chance,
We stay in love by choice.

It seems of late, that I exist on
merely two bowls of Raisin Bran
Crunch (with cut up peaches or
banna on alternating days) wetted
down and softened with Lactose
free 2% milk, so it does not upset
my stomach or hurt my gums.
What the heck, I used to like to
cook and the gods know I sure
have the time, but have lost the
desire and the fire I surmise.

Dear wide, comforting
McMurdo Sound.
The beautiful nowhere.
Perennial comforts high above.

Here is cold Ross Dependency.
Here is Erebus.
Surface landmarks:
hawk moth mirage
--malevolent trick
of the polar light.

Orphans of the sky.
First impressions in the snow.
Mountain tomb, angels sing.
Coffins full of ice.

They say the smell of kerosene
never leaves you,
and that on a clear day you can
still see the debris.

Long distance stares
Blurry, nondescript
I've been leading you
Into an abyss
Saw your smile turn
Into a frown
When I'm around
If you look deeper
You'll see the mask I wear
Is only for you

I made my Dr.'s appt on time... early... as normal.
And waited one hour. But that's okay.
He takes his time, and will also do so with me.
I'm called in.
I sit, and wait another fifteen minutes. But that's okay.
He arrives. He's older. In fact why hasn't he retired.
But, I'm pleased he hasn't.
So, he begins, as he brings my chart onto his medical screen,
What brings you here today?
I'm concerned about my health. I have a family history that worries me.
Oh!, he sounds. What is it in particular that worries you?
Death, I answered. My family... (and the litany ensued)
Death! I heard. Your chart doesn't have any serious health issues to red flag you, he consoled.
True, I said. But look at my family history. It goes back generations, in Ireland and now in Canada. Both through my maternal and paternal sides. Uncles, Aunts, cousins, brothers, sisters...  died.  All of them. Is it any wonder. I have a family history of near and distant relatives dying. It's chronic, it's acute. Wars, disease, accidents, suicide. You name it. They've died from it, and I probably will too.
A textbook case, he said. Nurse, next.