you’ve threaded your dreams
through hope’s eye of a needle
with tomorrow’s yarns
but what if they’re moth-eaten
broken by death’s slightest pull
aging
recalling…
a spring walk
a country church
meadows brushed with wind
youth choir voices of praise
sermon short and sweet
picnic after prayers
eyes of a first love
unintentional…
these final moments
as i walk my life’s crime scene
complicity’s found
return policy…
note item must be
in the original box
some wear expected
no purchase slip is required
given god’s tracking system
a single forget-me-not…
as a poet
i have decided
to
fade away
quite
gracefully
merging
into the woodwork
but
leaving
a rather
irritating stain
deep
into the fibers
of life
not
removable
by sanding
and
far
too costly
to replace
i absolutely
see
no need
for me
to
change
completely
because of a little thing
called
death
an unhinged treasure…
the old door’s now gone
for years kept out the cold winds
sorely missed these days
needing god’s reassurance…
grabbed my garden hose
sprayed water into the light
needed a rainbow
