A narrow dirt road winding around a lake
lined by tall grass leading through a forest
where the party resides among the unseen
people laughing drinking nectar from the
honeysuckle trees and garlands of wildflowers
tossed about each person's neck bidding farewell to each passerby
who stopped to join but had a more pressing engagement further up
the road empty spots by the sides were a combination of bleak and
lively too common for the traveler to want to take part of.
Winding up to a small hill the path is covered
by a whipped sugar fog welcoming an appropriate
end right up to five small headstones
each one read slowly anticipation of my own name on the last one
where I am supposed to be buried but I am not.
