Pound it Out.

The great slowdown, begun

No cicadas to calm the rib-cage

The disarray, manifesting.

The heat comes to dry out the remnants

Of a life, long-lived.

I knew this.

As deficits deepen

The compass strains to steady

Where that fuck is the answer

To calm concern?

I know, I do know, Oh how I know.

The rummage of MORE diving lower

We are not designed for forever

Bones know when tendons are through

The resistance towards final change

Lessening. And I feel it.

I feel him loosening

His grip. His fatigue. His need for rest.

I am here now to soften transitions

In any way I am able.

My Gibraltar

Anchored as the greatest Sailor

My life has known.

The Good Lord knew that to be born to him

I would pack in his strength

To live creatively, by self-propelled design.

The gift of DNA

Perpetuating.

Life unlimited, for all we can carry

I load the stock, as I do, by default.

That hammer and nail still needs building.

I loathe the goodbye that is headed my way.

I will never be ready.

Still, I understand.