slipping

he is in
the shadow
stage of
life, when
things
get cloudly
when they
would be
ordinarily
bright.
he forgets
the day,
the appoint
ment, to
turn off
the stove,
and put on
pants.
there is
no memory
of dinner,
or where
all things
should be.
in vague
inches he
is slipping,
slipping
and fading
into a world
where he
can't be
seen.