His world was bigger once

His once-big world contracted over time,
Shrinking from infinite possibility
After he thought through what was reasonable,
Then narrowing to what seemed practical
Before he decided what would be manageable
While he remained comfortable.
When that failed,
He chose the tolerable path, veering with experience
A way which proved bearable.

This was his world at 90:
Small slights were big deals.
Little nicks that once healed with no attention
Now stretched into gaping wounds festering out of proportion,
Like how they wouldn’t let him have chocolate cake,
Or any cake, the nurses, his purees-only daughter
Who told him that odious shake was chocolate,
That it, too, was sweet. No, cake did not used
To be the only thing, his furtive objective at funerals
And the daily lunch, an end in itself—sometimes, he thought, the end—
Rather than one of many possible sweetnesses.

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One Comment

  1. smh

    2 different poems here, I think. I think we see more pithily in this portion from the second half–No, cake did not used
    To be the only thing–what you’re trying to accomplish with entire the first stanza. What do you think? I like the first half, too, but am just not sure that it helps you much here.

    Posted October 15, 2016 at 9:11 pm | Permalink