Putting on my former life like an old jacket:

It still fits but for this missing sleeve-

Well that and some of the collar is cut

Away or just disappeared somehow; it can’t relieve

Me of the wind quite so well now, though I

Could sit just so and almost look the same-

From the right distance and skew, the eye

Might see me as I was. Is time to blame,

When this same chair on this same veranda feels

Slant somehow like the view beyond 

As if the light from an unknown world steals

Here and all feels poised to break gravity’s bond?

Even the weather pretends as I order a drink

To wile as I wait for the sun, as expected, to sink.