death

my grandfather gave up living
when he retired from the army
moved into a blue house
with a large garden
and reduced his lot
to eating, sleeping
and walking the dog

i always thought it sad;
evidence of the slow decay
or perhaps
a living statement of the fact
that we have nothing to live for;
that is, we live for nothing

years later,
i remember his last meals
the singleminded determination
the quiet pleasure
and the quieter confessions of anxiety

and i wonder
if it is not for the sake of dying gracefully
that we live at all