ANY DAY COULD BE THE DAY YOU DIE

Any day could be the day you die.

You could step out in the street
And wind up sitting in someone's back seat,
Covered by a white sheet,
Red blood, and broken glass after saying hello to the windshield.

You could board a plane
Heading from New York to L.A.
But the trip just seems to fall fatally short of your expectations.

You say you want to check out of this life
But at the last minute, you decide there is one grain of sand worth living for,
But that sand just slipped through the hourglass, my sister.
There's no taking that bullet back.

You could be in the prime of your life.
Then one day...
BAM!
Metasticizing masses creep into your colon.
Not today, not tomorrow, but somewhere down the line,
You'll die.

They also say things come in threes
In January, they did for me.
January first, Happy New Year, uncle dear.
January eighth, heart attacks were the order of the day.
But nothing drove home the fragility of life more
Than my dad's birthday, January 24th.
News that the Crone of Crohn's disease came calling for a former colleague.
Married for three months,
27 years old, never lived to see 28.

Any day could be the day you die.

(12-14-2001)