They 8216sickness8217 was not love nor lack

They ‘Sickness’ Was Not Love
Nor Lack Of Love
The Sickness Was ‘Unprescibed, Unexpected’
It Did Not Thrive On Attention
Nor Lack Of Attention
It Was A Slow Eddying Away
[Perhaps Of Purpose? ]
Stones Strangely Softer Smoother
After Much Rain
The Sickness Was A Necessity?
For Awakening
From, Or To All Imaginings
The Sickness Bred
Itself
In The Marrow
Of Every Living Bone
It Did Not Remind Us Of What We Had Lost
But Of All That Was Left To Live
In This Time
This Hour
A Day Is As A Thousand Days
One Life