It was mono.
For a while they trifled with the idea
Of something more deadly,
Played with it really.
(What a sadly beautiful thing
He was so young
He had his life ahead of him
But no, just dog sick, a kiss of near death,
Sent to my room, shades drawn, to sweat it out in
A delirium of fever.
Time passed, days blinked into lifetimes
And all that was reality in its previous manifestation
Faded, dissipated, disassociated
Old school, like the last shrinking light of a switched off TV.
And at the next opening of my eyes
The sun seemed to have found
A new position in the sky, beyond the window
A new light, silent,
Spotlighting motes, drifting defiantly, galactically.
That light signaled some new season
It taunted more than illuminated
Aching with the long yellow rays of
Marigolds and beams of golden umber.
A path was set alight, cleared
So that I could rise and walk weakly
Some 20 steps
Into the light and the future of that moment
Into the presence of this one
Where my certain time
My life after my averted death
Had stone-skipped forward
Through the past of many possible moments
In which I lay half awake, still feverish
Into this instant
So clearly unfamiliar even
To its creator.