When I Die

  • by
ancient burial cemetery cross

when I die
bears will still go through
cabins when
nobody is home
and ducks in circling flight
will still come and drowse on warm sand
silhouetted in the long shadows of sunset

when I die
there will still be smells of damp hay
cattle lazy under a summer sky
and cars will still swish on interstates
under moonlight fragmented by
broken clouds

when I die
what-ifs and might-have-beens
will still dally in shadows
of aged thoughts
and dreams will still be robbed
of their completion

when I die
there will still be dances and climaxes
of youth radiant in immortality
and crystal glasses will still toast
ringing resonant
over green wine bottles and
red lobster shells

when I die
there will be mourning
then forgetfulness
but I will do fine without a name
letting a thousand winds blow
to cover the tracks
I left while living

Published in Main Channel Voices. Featured image by Miguel Á. Padriñán from Pexels.