I see the parcel drifting
Lazily against the burning sky.
The whites of the parachute
Contrasting with the purples and reds
And yellows of the sunset.
Death, it seems, will ride in not
On a stallion, but like a hellish parade float:
Taking its sweet time.
I put down down my rake and search
For you. Your black hair flowing out
From under the sun hat I always tease
You about. Your back to me, delicate
Shoulders taut and focus concentrated
On the weeds choking your beloved orchids.
I touch your back, ask you to drop
Your spade and gather your familiar hands
Into mine.
I never want to forget.
The parcel has dropped from view
And you look at me in that mix
Of puzzlement and mischief I fell for
All those years ago. As the sky
Fills with thunderous noise and unnatural
Light, I keep my eyes on you.
No, I never want to forget.
And as our world collapses around us
In a hail of earth and glass,
I pray you know you are l-