I found your diary

I found your diary with  a date to meet
A friend  you loved and cherished all these years
But life itself made that a  raw, cold cheat
For when it came you were no longer here.

I admired your life force and your wit
The act, illusion, call it what we must.
You did not hurry into death’s cold pit
Nor where you eager to  break down into dust

Yet you did not fight  the coming freeze
Like a cat that senses its own end
No longer could  you speak, yet  lay at ease
Until the curtain’s calm and kind descent

On New Year’s  Day two thousand and fifteen
We  did not know that this was our last scene