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for my children

I've created scenarios around my eventual death,
sometimes a swan-like Camille in her finest performancec,
sometimes a fistful of shout like Eleni, "for my children".

I know nothing for sure, and each day
brings me to the cold rapture of sky--
Basho's poem and its scorpion sting.

Dying into this. Dying into this.

Splash.

Editing stage: 

Comments

I don't remember being so moved by one of your poems since... last time I was so moved by one of your poems. It has all Kailashanaessnous

cheers,
Jess
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