careful as you tread your path
of thistlewood and vines
for paths are steep, and air is thin
as you reach beyond your time
an empty pack, an empty bottle
no remnants left of wine
we ate the meat and ate the bread
we're left to dine on rinds
from the earth, into the earth
there's an end to every line
a poolside view as you fade away
we're all just doing fine