I took health for granted,
my youth like a rose
To bloom in the present,
till thorns would depose
Attacking my body,
invading my mind
The sleep I'd grown used to,
much harder to find
Not a cold or a fever
for so many a year
No matter the weather,
with nothing to fear
But time is recalling
its card worn and thin
Infirmity threatens
—death budding within
(Villanova Pennsylvania: October,2020)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem