Everyday Life (Dying Normally) Poem by Brian Taylor

Going out there is no other
coming back there is no trace.
As Eternity comes nearer-clearer,
the brackets themselves have a smaller place.

Meeting in a far-off future
you will not recognise my face
but will turn away to your then-close family
in your then-dear corner of infinite space.

April has spread out her wares
bluebell, primrose, polyanthus, gorse,
rosemary, hawthorn, wild garlic, dandelion, apple.
For a solitary robin
that hops
and stops
and stares.

It is easier to chop down
an acorn
than an oak.

(The branch you bang
your head on
was an acorn
that you missed.)