I don’t want to die,
Just plant me as a tree.
Grown just for summer afternoons.
A yawn stretches my roots deep.
Lean against my trunk,
Hunch with you against the wind.
No, I don’t want to die,
Just leave me to become a river.
Rippling casually by in fall,
Full of fish making their way upstream.
Stop the car at the gravel turnout,
Stand in awe until the weather turns.
I’m sure Death will find me,
Somewhere on a mountain face.
Wild destiny doesn’t hold it down.
Basked in the sun, baked and warm.
There are worse ways to go, you suppose.
At least we didn’t go to waste.