If this were my last night on Earth
I muse, I would quell all chatter
And listen to the Big Dipper
Spill its stillness over the land
As the round moon rises, softly—
A muted gong of polished brass
Shimmering amidst glimmering
Stars in darkening-blue of heav’n.
I would stop awhile to linger
And listen for the old, old tunes
Faintly echoing—echoing
With laughter and small delights found
In ten thousand short days lived well—
Loving and striving and thriving.
Let me fill my heart one more time
Until the glow of dawn slips through,
Ever sooner than expected.
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