Call for the robin-redbreast and the wren,
Since o’er shady groves they hover,
And with leaves and flowers do cover
The friendless bodies of unburied men.
Call unto his funeral dole
The ant, the field-mouse, and the mole,
To rear him hillocks that shall keep him warm,
And (when gay tombs are robb’d) sustain no harm;
But keep the wolf far thence, that ’s foe to men,
For with his nails he’ll dig them up again.

Please don't shiver from my fingers
Dont cry when you feel my breath
This is not a result of your mistakes
Please don't fear me, Please don't fear death

Greet me as an old friend
Greet me with your head held high
Come with me on your own terms
So you have a chance to say goodbye

Understand, I am not evil
My eyes can fill with love
I don't want to take you with me
For there is no land above

You have been the most courageous
Bravest I've ever seen
But things like that don't matter now
It doesn't matter who you've been

I will cradle you in my arms
Try to make your death more mild
But it pains me in my placid heart
When I have to take a child.

Gravity's on more than usual today
and the tile is unforgiving to the gawky limbs in my shoulder sockets
that keep dropping my favorite ****.
My ******* flower mug.
My flower mug, with the two-finger handle.
With the hazelnut and vanilla and almond and Columbian dark dark roast.
With the "goodmorning" and "hows life?"
"Fine."
Lifey, isn't it?
And I'll be peeling super glue off my fingers for days
even though I know it won't hold what it's meant to anymore
(Who does?)
Maybe it'll start a penny collection someday.
(Who knows?)
And I'll wait in a silence with which I'm well-acquainted.
I know
if you break it, you buy it,
but I'm broke.