the sun will rise
high as apple pie
in blue chiffon
as the day you were born.

I suppose
the rose will bloom
in the garden. The petals
won’t harden
as I.

I suppose
the salmon will jump
up the waterfalls,
ducking bear claws,
******* up
water as straws.

I suppose
children will wet their toes
playing in the snow. And their faces
will look as cherries. Their breath
will hover as a mother.

I suppose
the earth will orbit
the sun, as another year is
over -

You've stopped growing older.