That’s it. He died.

But there was more. He woke up
Looked around, and then
smiled because he knew–

He knew–
because he’d always known
That endings are nothing without beginnings
And beginnings are guaranteed.

But then, of course, there’s me–
So afraid of endings that I’ll do anything
to stop the stopping,
Even not beginning.

And that’s why I’m Wowed today,
Because we really can’t control when
he dies.

So, we sit back and look at Emerson’s stars,
gain appreciation for the magnitude of our
complete minuteness in this moment,
and long for days or even seconds more
to gaze into familiar eyes and say
“I’ll miss you” or “I love you” or simply
“Please don’t go”

But he leaves anyway. Alone.


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