Choices in time

I  called him up to rant…
to rile him up with word and emotion
so we would revel in the power of our mutual disapproval
of people and events at our favorite mosque.
But …
he didn’t so much as hear me out
didn’t accept my bait
changed the topic…
That’s unusual, I thought
somewhat confused.
A few days later
an email explained…
he had been fighting for his life and now died.
it all made sense
he had been picking his battles
ones he wanted to fight, and
those he couldn’t, didn’t
There would be no more ranting and raving
he had decided
even before he spoke to me.
No more wasting his precious breath
his last few inhales were reserved for things
more important
more significant…

It’s time, 
I think to myself
to live like that
to focus on the grain, and
ignore the chaff
before they arrive
those declines and deadlines
of mortality and morality
and the minute-hand starts to scribe its last full circle.


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