I stretch my sore arms out
Spread my fingers as far apart as they'll go.

I open my mouth,
And with my yawn comes a mighty roar from behind my sternum.

I try not to flinch,
But that old wound hasn't healed entirely
Just yet.

I can feel myself
Begin to crumble from the weight of
My own voice.

But I dig my heels
Of the feet attached to my aching legs into the burning, ashen ground.

I stare up at the blazing sky.
Twinkle of mischief in my eye.

Tell them to rest easy--

The dearly departed.
Because I'm just getting started.