Left little finger numbness visits me,
an uninvited guest who slips within,
and I, unwilling, patient host must be,
ignoring fear of life with failing skin.

Write not on stone all words that leave my lips,
for unintended syllables appear,
and I, excuse designing, cover slips,
deflecting, so I hope, most breaks severe.

Short lapses in attention store no news,
events imagined will fill up the gaps,
and I, unsure, will claim false memories,
enhancing stories with my victor laps.

Engrave life's joys upon my thankful brow
and I, death facing, still will praise each now.

- Robert Stone, 14 November 2013