Memento Mori

A bow to Billy Collins' poem of this title - I'll have to come up with another one, but it's a common enough phrase.

It doesn't take much to remind me
that all is dross and my coffee
will cool into a weak shadow
of its formerly robust self

while I, in my big, soft armchair
rot from the inside out even as I
pen these few lines and consider
the mortality of every living thing:

my loyal black dog, and yes,
eventually that old fat bastard cat
although I suspect he may have found
the key to eternal life

the exuberance of the crocus along
the sidewalk will fade and blossoms drop
onto the fickle ground which
too will someday cradle us each and all

and as the coffee cools and the crocus
shyly greet one more sunrise, I believe
I will survive this day in surprise and gratitude

and that the inexorable rhythms of
an indifferent world will spare me:
another day, another sunrise,
another prayer