Expiration Date

(Photography by Iam Hogir - found here)

Each day, You call me to die

And I imagine a slow fade, with some final, quiet exhalation in some distant room
but maybe also
I need to die differently
Each day
like my ballpoint pen
with inky abundance in death
The last light of the western sun illuminating radiant falling leaves
Or a child on the verge of a meltdown
running around the room
Or a Bilbo Baggins eleventy-oneth birthday
Trusting that all that is left behind
is so much less than what lies ahead

~Douglas Wyatt Anderson