I think I want to get old
Alone. Learn how to grow
Strands of white in
Grey.

Deaf to a silence as
Complete as any ever. I'll
Have longs since
Unlearned

To talk. I'd like to go like
That -still in the rocking chair.
Or find myself locked in the dark
Boot of a car, with a shovel and

Every last thank you prayed;  
Hearing, from the sound of
The gravel, that I'll rest in home-
Ground soil. Both feet in leather.