Winter Music
By Meryl Stratford
It has grown more urgent.
It has grown into a rocket on a launch pad,
a final countdown.
It seems, after all, you aren’t going to live forever.
Not even as long as a sequoia tree
or a Galapagos turtle.
It seems your view of things has changed
again.
Perhaps it’s time to fly to Greece,
to swim in the Aegean.
Perhaps it’s time to write
what you loved about this planet,
what you hope to find
among the stars.