Before my time was up on the last day I stood outside the calling, final door. I was with her, Katherine, the highest exaltation of love. She didn’t want me to go, either; but she was closer to the truth than I, deeper went her roots into the world. I said, “Wait, I want to plant one more garden.” And so we tilled the dark soil and added nutrients and set into the world our seedlings, growing, desirous things, vines and stalks and green reaching for the sun. When it was time for the honors, she watered and I watched. Wait, one more sip from the creek, I whispered, and stooped low for my puckered, thirsty lips. We should set up a compost bin, I said, and we did; How about one last trip to the farmers’ market downtown, underneath the sun and all of their hats; one more poem and one more song, we’ve got time. Fresh-squeezed lemonade in April with organic strawberries, once more, I can feel it we’re not begging. I’ll sign your petition, down there on the street, this time, sure. Melons and we ate those carrots in the car. I noticed the mockingbird and the wave curl and the volleyball weekenders and the joggers and the giraffe’s head peeking above bushes, seeking the sea. Wait, before I step inside that door, once more please let me sit on the deck and gaze at the passing whales and playing dolphins and last surviving otters, let me note what was here and leave you a whiff of it; My sweetness and reason for being, allow me to stand and enjoy the soft skin-kissing breeze on cheeks.
