if you choose you
may add a post to
those you have left
before; no one but you

will read it, so
you might as well
not bother; this has been
the case with everything

you have left behind;
in fact, you won’t be recalled
by most folks who knew
you, and then those few

will go too, as will
every jotting you laid down
here, and elsewhere;
you will be lost, thank God,

in the face of everything
to come — so, the question:
why bother? the answer,
of course, is hope for

a different outcome, hoping
against hope’s known limits
that something of you survives,
even thrives a bit, in what is to come,

but — aren’t you silly to hope?
that’s the question, isn’t it?
the answer is the same:
you are silly to hope.

you do it anyway.
it remains, a smoothing
stone, minute and grinding
against all pain you hold,

a small tearing away until
it’s gone. you do it
anyway, and write down
what you you felt you

just had to get down there,
just had to. that’s hope,
wearing away all of the doubt.
pointless; you have no choice.

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