Musings

 

 

I do think about the fact

that these trees will still be here

the day after I die

and all these young people

who outstep me on my daily walk.

 

“Just wait!” I mentally call after them

 as they charge the inclines in top gear.

“Your time too will come.”

 

But I will not be here to see that-

for I will either be six feet under

my flesh feeding the wildflowers,

the anemone and lady’s mantle

 

Or I will be ashes

some at least to be scattered

on the West Coast of Ireland

where the Atlantic flings itself into Derrynane Bay-

 

And though I have not yet decided

on burial or cremation and time is running out

I have romantic notions either which way I go-

 

And after all this morose browsing

I determine to drink less wine, eat my five-a-day

and circumnavigate the park one more time

but at a much faster pace.

Copyright 2024 Cathy Leonard All rights reserved