I am laid low

I am laid low

Disease crept up on me overnight

It burrowed under the covers

Invaded my body

With its vapours

Ragged breath whistling

Through my cavity

I am nothing but

An old bellows

Cracked in appearance

Leather-bound

Body close to expiring

Convulsive vomiting

Striking me down

Laying me to waste

In the grip of this affliction

Wild thoughts wander.

There is a shadow in the corner

Where death lurks

Is it ugly?

How can it be any other

Hiding its intention

Behind a veil

I want to strip it bare

Lay it open

Confront its inevitability.

I will never eat well again

What could happen

To change this

Strange malaise

I am as empty

As the bucket by my bed.

I remember

The porcelain pot

My granny had beneath hers

A guzunder

To ease her bladder

In comfort

Rather than stumbling outside

Tightly wrapped against a NorthEasterly.

Holding her composure

Until she sat

Among the spiders

In the cold and dark

Of the outhouse.

I wonder if she saw death

Hanging from a hook

On the back of the door

Do any of us

Recognise the danger

Before

It comes to pass.

I hunker down

To sleep

I am too easily

Disoriented today.