It was

the heaviness and certainty of the impending.
Finally I took out the binder and started to enter
information that end of life planners think
will be the most useful to those who’ll have
to put my affairs in order. Let me tell you,
these things are not a breeze. I filled in perhaps
two pages. I haven’t reached the part where,
seeing the light, Dante might exclaim
that within its depths, he sees Bound by love
into a single volume, Pages that lie scattered
through the universe. OK Dante, I’m trying
to get it together. The wood is also dark
tonight, a storm bearing down, the sea
a typewriter carriage endlessly recording.