I Hope I Die Looking At The Sun
Folks I know, are disappearing one by one.
They turn to gold in their autumn years
Wise on life's lessons
unable to avoid the inevitable.
Dignified they seem,
folding and packing away the memories.
In the mean time
Living for ‘the now'.
Life's little pleasures,
smiles, laughs, story-telling,
kind words, nice cup of tea.
Timely winds of gentle destiny
will bend the tree
Then fall they, like the leaves of a sugar maple
on a sunny day.
Glorious, shining, slowly, downward drifting
Floating, falling, slumber.
Not without life, but not breathing
You will never be broken again.
Dig now, fill later, adverts state.
I'd rather not, thank you.
Bury me where I drop
I won't have a notion to care
The earth will welcome my body
Assimilating minerals to ore,
Flesh to insect feast.
As the autumnal leaves rustle in remorseful
and grateful applause
sobbing bereavement from loved ones and hoaxers.
The irreverent cries, and the silent sighs
of relatives calculating profit from loss
One day, those who lie will be old too.
An empty promise is more than just hollow
It creates a vacuum.
Avoiding dishonesty and regret,
and the earth will welcome you warmly.
Monday, February 22, 2021
Topic(s) of this poem: dying