I took health for granted,
my youth like a rose

To bloom in the present,
till thorns would depose

Attacking my body,
invading my mind

The sleep I’d grown used to,
much harder to find

Not a cold or a fever
for so many a year

No matter the weather,
with nothing to fear

But time is recalling
its card worn and thin

Infirmity threatens
—death budding within

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2020)