In my youth
I regarded death as a
Time clock
Punch in on February 8, 1941, at 3:52PM
Punch out on February 8, 2041, at 3:52PM.
Tidy.
Now
I view death as
erosion.
Amorphic.
I built my house
on a bluff
overlooking the ocean.
Buffeted by nature:
sun
wind
rain
waves.
Lost to erosion:
First the ice plant
then the manzanita
Next the ceanothus
And the geraniums
My favorite Monterey cypress
A corner of the redwood deck
The guest bedroom…
How much longer can I stay in my house?
How much longer will I be myself?
“Why don’t you move?”
I love the view.
