A warm breeze moves in from the east, unassuming, gentle. You see the remaining days trickle from your calendar, it feels too soon, too soon, all you ever wanted was more time. You plead with the Universe for more time, look at each blade of grass like you want to commit it to memory.
Earlier, along the lazy river, drifting through statuesque Montana canyons, you remarked at how easy it is to laugh in the company of others, how light your heart after a day spent with friends. Driving back home to the empty cabin under big sky lightning, you thought, and yet, how easy to live without.
It's harder to fight an illness,
when it was made in your bones.
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