We will all lay our heads down in brown leaves,
hoping that from our decay flowers bloom
over us, but much more importantly,
hoping that those who are younger than us
will embrace our memory with fondness,
seek to imitate or best qualities,
and inform their life with the joy we had
when we walked and breathed morning air at dawn.
I frequently talk to my dead parents,
even though I’ve little to say to them.
Likewise, I talk to numerous dead friends
with poignant content, longing for answers,
but that is like looking at a full moon,
knowing nothingness can be beautiful.