pyre

when i found out i wasn't long for this world
i grew bitter
at the stars and trees
and the copper money in my hand -
they would all outlast me
and have a place in the world
long
long after i was murmuring in the earth.

so i caught the stars and melted them down, one by one, and strung them on my daddy's old shoelaces, and hung them on the cat.

and i cut down the trees, one by one, and built a beautifull ship and put it at the edge of the deepest lake i know of.

then i climbed over the railing of my boat and called over the cat. The stars sparked against the dried bark, and my pyre smoothly burned & sank, and i drifted, murmuring, to the soft earth.

what of the money? well, it wouldn't melt and it wouldn't float and the cat didn't want it, so i'd just dropped it, let it slide right from my hand onto the packed-down dirt.

because science may die, and beauty may perish, but greed will outlast us all.