At the end of a lifetime what will I remember
When my eyes are closed forever
Or my body is too old to travel
Very far from my hometown of
A suburbia of cookie cutter houses with
Its grueling summer days and biting winter nights
And the short sweet springs of little pink blooms in between
That clung to the ends of my cherry blossom
And fell delicately in a flurry of pink and white
All over my tire swing and sandbox
Because my brother and I liked to thrash at them in our make believe.

At the end of a lifetime I will never forget
The cool shade of that old willow tree
Its thick knobby trunk and dry coarse bark
And its delicate lacey branches
That hung like a veil over her face at that wedding
Of reds whites and golds
And crisp crimson envelopes of luck.
They told me the green bills are greatness
But I’ve seen better.

At the end of a lifetime I will gather so many smiles and tears
That I will flood the entire city and swim amongst the skyscrapers
That are too weak to withstand the wind and rain that beat against the cold stone
As they sway slowly from side to side
But still manage to remain upright and strong.
And I will swim through the alleys and main streets that I’ve known so well
Soaking up the sound of drowning car horns
And the shuffling of the smoky leathery city goers.
But the awful smog that reeks onto my own body won’t bother me
Because I will feel so alive.

And even if at the end of a lifetime I cannot remember
The life that I have yet to live
I will still remember the sweet honeysuckle smell
Of the turquoise bear blanket that my mother
Would cradle me in every day since my first hour
Of living a century of bliss.