He sat down,
and was kibbitzing
with the sudoku player
hooked up next to him
as they tapped his vein.
Vital, lean face
with a lopsided smile
and a still-firm handshake
though he might have been
pushing eighty.
His voice as strong
as his grip
as the nurse came by
with her survey
on a clipboard
asking
how comfortable was he?
is there anything we can do for you
to improve the quality
of the life you have left?
anyone we can contact?
fine.
no.
no.
She bustled off
to her growing stack
of paperwork;
he turned
to the sudoku player.
*the nines go here...and here.