If I live longer
A. Lydick
(c) 2007

I promise to cross your ankles
For comfort, before you’re buried
If somehow I don’t ensure cremation
Which is what you actually want
Then I’ll at least be sure to get this right

If it goes down that way
I’m guessing it could be a hot mess
A battle over who best knew you
I’ll concede before it comes to that
Thinking you’d find it a waste of time

Anyway, how sweet and silly
How perfect it would be
Sneaking to comfort you, tuck you in
Laughing, remembering your sleepy face
“If that happens, promise me you’ll cross my ankles.”




Later that same life
A. Lydick
(c) 2007

On the last day of my life
I will wake up at 6:33 a.m.
Go eat $1.95 eggs and toast
In some Sandhills cafe

Later, stand next to the Niobrara
In the heat of the day
Let my neck get red-brown and warm

Of course drink cold beer
Lean back against the top porch step
In the openness of early evening
Elbows resting on smooth and gray

Alone
Even the dog will have died
Not lonely
Just thinking of you