I woke up at ten a.m
Look at the time
Turned over
To go to sleep again
Time dragging
It’s now one p.m
Unrealistic
I take my time
To the same routine
On borrowed time
I showered
For the first time
In two days
Every follicle of skin
Against the moist soap
Conditions my skin
Brushing teeth was conditional
Flossing is unconditional
To adjust to having it done
All the time is a tradition
Each thin bristle of my brush
Wrestled with the silver strands
Of grey hair, sticking out
Hair, like the feel of cotton
Soft to touch
I rubbed oil to lubricate
My cracked old skin
Making it delicate to touch
And I dress putting on
My old black, lace gown
To cover up
At 2:00 p.m
It seems the days
Are getting longer…
I look forward to
The fresh brew of coffee
In the morning at 3:00 p.m
Compensating for loss alibies
Forgotten memories
Backwards in remission
Pacing in lapsed time
I stare into empty space
It’s now 5:00 p.m
I drift into deep sleep again