I have pieces of myself
In boxes under the  bed.
Tonight I'll take each,
Neat brown parcel into
The woods
And burn them.

The parts that feel
The parts that sing
The parts that care for anything

The parts that remember
Will disintigrate in the embers
Of the first summer fire.
Erasing every trace of my presence here.

Time to disappear
Into the night like
A vapor in the wind.

Follow if you wish.