When I Die

I had a mystical childhood that slowly slipped into an adulthood of enchantment.

                   When I Die

           I hope to stretch out,
              in a sloping field
            with good drainage
            and acorns all about
          and within easy reach.
           I would like the scent
        of oak leaves around me,
               tannins in the air.
       The grass is a thick green
          speckled with the gold
                 of dandelions.
         A soft breeze is playing
          a lovely funeral hymn
          and sunlight glints off
     every single blade of grass.
                 I can still see
           their shining smiles
            as I close my eyes.
         No ringing eulogy but
the clouds remember me fondly,
     the child who adored them,
           fashioned them into
         animals and emperors.
  A lifelong enchantment we had,
       an ecstasy of mysticism.
Goodbye, shape shifting beauties,
               I’ll see you soon.
                We shall dance
             a windblown waltz.
           I swallowed an acorn,
          and so shall be of use
                  unto the end.

                         5/21