Once I watched a nature documentary
where a pride of lions charged at a herd of zebras
and took one down.

When that zebra fell and was torn apart, 
the others stopped running. A strange calm fell 
upon the herd.  Not their turn, that day.

A month ago, you turned 52, the same age 
as myself. Today, you told me about the 
inoperable tumour in your brain. Old friend, 

I ran and still can't stop. If only I could give you 
the legs, the lungs to get up and run too. Through 
and away from this sudden savage wilderness.