Postscript and Last Rites
Calling to mind old loves and lovers
fighting time’s tide to grasp again
the moments lost to indecision;
imagining, imagining, imagining as before
And nothing more.
–––––––––––––––––––
If this is to be the final voice I hear
And these the only hands I feel
If yours the eyes I last look into
The lips I touch and extremely kiss
These rites would carry me happy
through a universe of eternities.