If you don't but I do,
where does that leave us?

Do you know?
Because I don't.

Do you even care?
Because I do.

Deeply

Bury not me
on the lone prairie

scatter my dust instead
to the winds above your head

please let me land and forever stay
where people laugh, create and play

The reality is;

That mom is gone
That I am the oldest now
That there are things to go through
That there are things to get rid of

and to sell and

that's going to

hurt.

Upside down and
cupped by dehydration
an autumn maple leaf quivers in
the cool
fall breeze

then a

puff

and it scurries to meet its kind
at he edge of the drive

When the warm summer breeze
blows from sea to sand
and gently caresses your face
while you stand on the dunes
it's breath overflowing
with the scent of the ocean
do you simply enjoy its caress?
or
Do you ponder the individual molecules?
The atoms?
The updrafts?
The suns rays?
The spin of the earth on its axis?
Where the wind came from?
or
Where it is going?

Or do you, like I
simply close your eyes
breathe deeply
and enjoy the moment?

On the hook on the back of a door
A pair of faded jeans hang motionless
Soon they will move again
But for now
We are left to wonder

Are they to cover the legs of a farmer
soon to be covered in the dust of the barn?

Are they to protect the legs of a construction worker
destined to wear the scent of concrete and wood?

Will they dance and stand on stage with the musician
drenched in sweat and smelling of cigarettes and stale beer?

Will they go to sea with the lobsterman
and be wet with the sea and smell of the algae that covers the lobster trap?

No

They will soon be sitting in small chairs
and smell of crayon and pencil and several kinds of lined paper
and applesauce and desk cleaner
for I am an educator
and these pants are mine.

I breathe
My heart beats
I feel
I love

Then what?

After breath has gone
and beats have stopped
I what?
Am I mourned?

And if the answer is "yes"
Then how?

Is it a bit of jewelry?
I am not a bit

Is it a coat or hat?
I am neither

Is it a house?
I am not a house.

What I am is;

A tear in your eye,
a smile on your lips,
a sigh.
A memory.

I will always be that but
I am not things.
I never was.