Good morning. Perhaps before I am old,
wandering on the face of the world, lost,
you could suggest an open place of grass
and curious trees where I walk barefoot
as the day cools under a massive sky,
with a herd of something I can’t quite see
moving slowly over there on my right,
the earth beaming up the fragrance of life
and the loud ticking of benign insects.
Or I may consider a warm ship’s rail
at the same time of day after the glare,
all the other passengers somewhere else
and my lone cabin prepared behind me.
Yes, I’ll go for the first option. Thank you.
