Measure

Comes the time

each of us chooses an item

to be remembered by

whether it’s a treasured pair of cowboy boots

or worn out running shoes

or a silk scarf or a tank top

mistakenly purchased in Barcelona,

the resting place

a cylindrical hole less than a foot

wide & deep, lined with everlasting concrete

into which we drop

or gently arrange our measure

with a gesture that mirrors our life

whether it’s a heron feather,

a beaded pendant, a catalog of tattoos,

our pleasure transparently capped

by an everlasting unscratchable seal

the color of pale watery sun

pebbling with dew, running with rain

each & every item shines through,

the holes unsigned

in this post-post era of uncriticized death

where at our leisure

we choose & place & go.