Remembering

I woke up
and played Joni Mitchell
on the radio, she sang “Summertime”
with a cheering raft of friends.

Then came the Dead and “Scarlet
Begonias” –50 years today
since it was released — and then someone
did a version of a Nirvana song

and I knew I was old,
old enough
for the tears that came up
for the live and the dead.

Last night I went to sleep
thinking it would soon be
too much to mourn for me
and only those who knew me

would mourn for my departure
from the solid world,
the world of
contracts and hibiscus.

Their hands
would be clean of the holy dirt
as soon as they wiped it off
and walked away.

Like a song
they might recall it — a snatch
of it, perhaps — later,
and it would bring up a tear or two

for scarlet flowers,
for crimson blues,
for lithium marks on a bottle,
for days when living was easy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

onward,
T