are still far away,
but, they’re haunting reminder—
the end is near. How do I prepare?
Where can I run, where can I hide?
There’s no hiding place I hear.
I long to be embraced by trees
and rest on a bed of nasturtiums.
I’ll create a permanent home
in the wilderness of bucolic serenity.
I’ll never stop roaming around
on every trail, singing my heart out:
“I’m happy when I’m hiking,
pack upon my back”
Now after I go to funerals
of my family and friends,
I leave, vowing to refrain
from dying and promise myself
to lead a life without dread.