her capacity for stoicism
is diminishing hourly
as pain becomes both
insidious and barefaced

her world is now small
one specailized chair
in one room and then
those who visit, catch her
attention, but for awhile

she seems to have shrunk
curling in upon herself
like a leaf, separated
from the tree

i have watched others die,
this, this is so much more
difficult and complex
there are so many ties
some made threadbare
by years of casual use,
some still strong that will need
to be unravelled over years of memory

she once was so large,
so vibrant and strong
but pain like water
is undercutting her banks
and soon this river will pass out to sea
as her wellspring gives out

then we all will be smaller for her passing