hospice

as the sea foam winds
swirl around my ears

and i look far into the hills
i know that this is the place.

this spot will be my hospice.
i will live among the jungle grass.
the hairy reeds and the gangly plants.
i will lie among the oaks
among the foxes and the mountain lions.
feeling my life seep into the undercurrent
of the creek.

kettering between life and death.
i will watch the blood orange
juice fall from the sunset sky.
it will fall onto my hands
and suck blood from my veins.
for that is the living ambrosia
for Ares' mantle.

but i am willing.
i have chosen this setting to breathe my last.
the pine needles will pity me here.
and the dirt on the ground will
lovingly embrace me.
and i will become the ground.
as i have always wanted.
to fall into the core of the earth.

-Pamplemousse