I will light
a cigarette on a sunny morning,
musing about my own mortality.
And you
still child,
will roam about the earth
unknowing of the venom spreading.
They
will try to put out the light,
sixteen years of grass-playing
stomach-laughing,
beautiful caress of the Earth
felt wholly by myself.
There is no doubt
that when you leave,
I will follow along
wherever you lead.