The days grew shorter.
The weeks and months too.
He felt time was conspiring
with aging to finish him as
soon as possible.
His breaking down body
seemed part of the plot.
And his balance was shot.
He started hearing fires
crackling in hell, and
angels singing in heaven
right before the dementia took
hold of him and the days and
weeks, the decaying body, the
sounds of hell and heaven, all of it
and everything went away.
Bob Boyd