In her last days
my aunt marveled at how kind everyone was.
All they wanted of her
was that she swallow her pills.
They even broke them in half.
Still, she couldn’t do it.
She had just enough energy left
to be moved by kindness; not a bit more.
It’s not anything
you can take with you
into the next world,
this dawn.
Who would have thought,
sunlight, tugboat’s
thick black smoke, this slow river,
who would have thought
nothing ends?
I decide not to bother
putting a new battery in the clock:
7 A.M. for good now, new light in the trees
and a small wind that will go on forever.