The thermometer beeps cruelly.
98.9 degrees fahrenheit.
The threshold has been crossed.
I have been struck down in the bloom of my late youth.

Remember me please,
As I was when you last saw me.
Sleepy, nose a little runny, but well.
Prospering unaware of my fate.

If you don’t have your health,
Then you have nothing.
I expect I’ll be sick forever
And I expect both I and forever won’t be long.

I lay down to sleep.
Perchance to dream
Of returning once again to the land of the living
Of 98.8 degrees fahrenheit.