I wait for my relatives to fall,
Trees in a great forest, or in a great swamp,
Each one strong and tall,
Each one rich and fully leaved with life and stories,
Each one knarled and bending,
Showing the results of various compromises
Along life’s way.

I will hear the fall with different resonances,
Each fall preceded by the news of impending death,
How each illness cut into the bark of each life,
How each damned worm ate into its unique meat,
How each cursèd beetle cut its path of death.

And at the country funeral home
I will wear my best-fitting suit,
Kneel before the coffin,
Say the Hail Mary and the Our Father and the Glory Be, and
Offer up that deepest prayer
That lies in my innermost heart.

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