A Spoonful of Gone

My coffee this morning,

dark and hot.

I spooned in the sugar,

a small white lot.

Stirred it slow,

round and round the cup,

watched the last grain go,

just vanish up.

And it hit me then,

the sudden, hard truth.

That's how it's been,

since early youth.

A little less light,

a slow, steady fade.

Belief taking flight,

a bargain unmade.

Just water now,

no sweet reward.

A silent bow,

to a silent Lord.