An old woman
is dying,
like many
old women, old men.

An old woman
is dying
in an old peoples’ home,
a facility with cinder block walls
painted a neutral shade
and artificial light that seems
very cold.

An old woman
is dying,
she thinks
of those she loved,
those who loved her,
those she is leaving.

An old woman
is dying.
that I know through
a friend.  She corrected my etiquette,
suggested I become
passionate about losing weight.

Just an old woman
and the fact that old people
are dying
makes little difference
to the living world.

But I just heard.
My morning coffee
has become cold,
and my desire to go on
has stopped,
as I stare straight ahead
at nothing in particular.