and who's to say...
maybe some tremor
of what you called you
may wield the sceptre
instead of the pick and shovel
on your next orbit

but what you call you
won't be there

don't hope for that

and should this trouble us?
we're barely here
when we're here

we drive this highway
our eyes fixed
on the faraway horizon
or shooting glances
in the rearview
while the low hanging fruit
of the orchard whizzes by
just outside the window