After Death

After death

may I find myself 
in a red 1966 International pickup

on Taos Canyon Road 
endlessly making my way
toward Quinta

never arriving

Or maybe I’ll find myself
in Venice again

strolling through Castello
my presence no longer shouting
“tourist” and “American” to all

because I’ll be invisible
just a good breeze

After death
if there is nothing
then I shall want nothing

but if there is to be something

let it be something
that lets me be
what I wanted to be

grounded in some place
where in life I found myself

longing to belong