Will anything of me remain? Would I
like to hang in a museum, with name
and age or anonymously

as Woman With Blossoming Branches
better known as The Covered Flower?
A continued existence, as an iconic person?

The photo is still beautiful
You just had to take it
Yes, that's what I looked like then

And when you look at it
who or what am I
to you?

And when you look at me now
am I different, more fragrant
with over-ripeness?

Or do you not dare
to take a good look, are you
not ready to acquiesce yet?

10 was old to 5,
30 unreal, and 60
Archaic. That was really
Magic.

When you age
Like a tree,
It takes roots that stretch to hell
To brace you against life's storms.

Knowing you have time to waste,
Knowing you'll waste it  -
This is worse than being old
Living in the shadow of the fact,
What remains.

Eventually the past will eclipse all light,
It will put out the Great Fire whose embers
Are the few remaining stars, and flames
Are the withering galaxies, and the rest is char.

Eventually, the Universe
Will go to sleep
Too.

Gum. I,
Breath freshener. I,
Sweet and tasty, till
Spit, forbid
That heavenly warmth
Of being used,
Onto the winter earth,
Ground into flatness,
Losing my wrinkles,
My color,
My soul.