Someday whether it be when the sun's fingers hook the horizon
or night planets reflect their gaze upon your eyes
you too will walk away
Finally uttering your last breath like a poem's end or a moan
you too will send a long shiver of delight
up the skeleton's back, joining
crystal bone to clean air.
In this moment, as the silver fish of memory
scatter in the sudden move, as longed for tomorrows
tremble out, winging away
you will lie or stand at last
in that precious interval between then and later
in that pause
you will lie or stand
present at last.