One Old Poem & One New Poem

oh hell, why not, I asked myself and pushed send

New Poem: Before I Die

Before I die I’d like to sleep

between the branches of some tree,

whose strength and reach and canopy

might almost have been made for me,

a place to fit these aging limbs,

this leaky head, this torso,

then wake up as myself again

or maybe more so

Old Poem: After He Leaves Again for G.S.

Last night you fell asleep in mid-sentence

your chair tilted back, your head against

my kitchen wall, leaving me with your grandmother

collecting eggs on a sunny morning fifty years ago.

This morning, you touch what you love

my face, some dark flowers in a glass

You are not afraid to die anymore

Me, I die all the time

but nothing happens.