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[Vincent Turner]

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I hope little will be left when it happens.
That my cheeks would’ve sagged
and my eyes be as blind as a person in love.
Let youth be an echo long silenced.

Let death floor me during dinner
quick as a blink, let the end be the end,
no limp legged crossing over the finish
line. May it rob me with precision.
 
Let there be nothing left to take,
no one else to love, may they all
have been scattered and mourned.
Have no one recollect me through grief.

Let me take seat on the last-felled rainforest tree
counting the loops of its life beneath a sun
that sputters out the last of its heat
like the engine of a failing car.
 
Let this tongue taste fruits not yet named,
and  those poems that bring audiences to tears
let them be penned by me
in every squalid motel even known.

For I do not want be a mere dipping of foot
into an icy sea, I want to be dunked
into every possibility by an old man
with terribly crippled arthritic arms.

[Corndog]

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I like this....... couple of nit-pics not worth mentioning......

Good to see the Mary doing well!!!

[jennymeehan]

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Lots of richness in this.  My favourite:

Let me take seat on the last-felled rainforest tree
counting the loops of its life beneath a sun
that sputters out the last of its heat
like the engine of a failing car.

[Sana]

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I like it too. Nice work Vincent.