How splendid it must be
to live an uninterrupted life.
To be one bird from egg
to last fall from a branch.
To wash up on shore
as one skeleton in littoral sand.
To leave no trace behind
that would prompt alarm or fear
of there having been
an unnatural break in a natural span.
I think of every being
I have been: ones I lost, ones
I abandoned, ones
I suicided or murdered.
How splendid it could have been.
I could have been an army by myself
and won. I could have gotten
older and simply faded away
without leaving a body behind
except one required by convention
for a final rest. Instead
I’ve left litter for folks to sort through
and bicker about. Who was this man,
they will ask. Which one
of these husks he left behind
should we revile or honor as his own?
How splendid to think
someone will choose one and make it so.
How splendid for me. I await an answer,
hoping I am able to rest.