Suppose

Suppose, for this one time,
you knew this was it — that this
was the last moment you would have
and the vision of the first shoots out front
was the last vision you’d have
and the radio scratching through
“Pancho and Lefty” was the last song
you’d hear and the scent of your sweatshirt
was the final scent of your whole life —

suppose this was it, that you’d leave
love and anger and shame behind you
as you moved down the road, getting
back in your fragile car after mailing
your regrets to the world, after sending
them out and collapsing
into the car with a penultimate sigh —

suppose this was it, that this represented
you as cosmic, dying soon with a whimper
on a whisper, slipping away saying
nothing, needing their prayers a little
but not much, not even wondering
which one cared the most because you knew
without asking deep in your bones and nerves —

suppose you took it there today,
suppose you went there today,
suppose you closed your eyes and soul
thinking of them, of her, suppose
you take it and leave it and wipe your hands
as you leave, shining in your way,
breathlessly striding upward and outward
into a grander world…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
onward,
T