How comfortably I will decline among brambles, thickets and vines
Once a prick and I'd furrow my brow but as I am dead I worry not now
Leave me there to be devoured and return this overdue borrowed matter.
A hodge podge of dinner guests will do it fine. The smell of death they do not mind.
(You'll pardon me, for I do smell. I can't help it, as I am now)
My legs my arms my hands my bowels the skin upon my greenish brow
It does not belong to any one now- I am gone, though I know not how
Maybe a fox will tear the flesh up and run to a stream where the water is fresh
Maybe a bird will pull the eyes from the head and live to lay a clutch of eggs.
A possum will surely visit, I hope, trundling in to dutifully clean up my mess
Coyotes are near too, I wonder if they will gather for a calf or thigh.
Turkey buzzards for sure, will find my body and take care of the bits too rancid for others.
My bones will stay about a year or so
You may want to bury those
YOU ARE READING
How comfortably I will decline
PoetryA poem about death, for the people who live after I die
