Diagnosis

it's
so
abrupt
the change wrought
by the pink capsules
she and i anticipated
morning tea, evening chablis, lovely tropical trips

i too clung to canons that the unit be the end
– she no longer wishes to walk
on lake ice below falls
where water
dirks off
the
cliff

now
her
changing
flesh amends
her mind and promise
ticking toward an end she grows
more cloistered hoarding each atom of breath-beam of light

i cannot savor the swirl of time that trickles down
from the crags and cliffs left ahead
unless willing to
gamble a
final
free
fall