Mortality estimate, life expectancy the sand,
invisible hourglass handed over by a doctor
(this once, not wearing gloves), little bottle,
prescription of one day a day, no refills.
Hand grenade. An empty urn that has been
pre-engraved with best-if-used-by date.
An erosion, top to bottom, losing ground.
Used the guess to calculate, translated into
months, counted slowly with a finger, found
the anticipated final square upon the calendar.
Did not share the projection, merely took
red ink and marked a question in the space.
Reluctant to remove the pen, turned that
final point beneath the curving symbol into
a circle, a little window with no shutters
open on unknown.
In response to/inspired by Luisa A. Igloria’s “What could we know” and Dave Bonta’s “Camping.”