De Maximus

I know a man bursting with life who is dying,
his heart and lungs traitors to future desires.
He lost prime years confined and now free
gathers experiences at a frenetic pace.
He sleeps little, refusing to give away time
spent in somnolence rather than sensation.
He rushes with reckless energy into pursuits
that will drop into ditches when falter comes.
All of which he knows, none of which he allows
to hamper primal gluttony for life still accessible.
I am meant to counsel caution, to encourage
tight reins and temperate pacing but can’t
begrudge his driven, excessive hurtling,
taking pleasure in the residue of his days.