My neighbour invited me to a party today
for a man who died three years ago.
I did not know the man.
Was he famous?
Did he hurt people?
Or was he just a man in the wind?

He was a relative of my neighbour.
They gathered to celebrate and remember his life.
I wondered if anyone would come to celebrate and remember me when I die?

As I look who will I see drinking Belgium beer and talking about my poetry?
Will anyone say 'He was a man of constant sorrow, but a good father?

So I watched the people eat and drink and thought about my own death.
When will the shadows close in.
Will I begin to notice?
What will I feel?

So many people are abandoned in despair. Holding thoughts that no person should possess alone.
Wanting something better.
Death can seem an answer.

My neighbour offered my some Baijiu.
I smiled and politely say 'no thank you'.
The last thing I needed was to think about my own death and drink Baijiu!

As I left, still searching for my soul, I realised again, that weak winds and silent structures are all around us.
It is the small margin of moments, the walk through time that give us a chance of a good death.