An Old one for Alexis

"First you have to get over yourself, then you can practice medicine."
Scot Sickbert

I measure you,
milligram by milligram,
and parse out your day
in therapeutic doses.

You are tied fast
by the sinews of old age.
Held down by the luggage of old memories
and caged by the call light,
and bed alarm

You,
who once danced,
who once suckled babies,
and drank in the scent of summer rain.
You,
who grew daisies,
who perfected lofty biscuits
and hummed to big band.

Your days slip by
like paper boats;
propelled by the trickle
of rainwater running in the street.
And no matter what I do,
this life
runs
out.

7/15/03