Crows, bluejays and pigeons

Crows, bluejays and pigeons

talk this morning. Closest we come

to wilderness here. Autos screech

and sirens scream. Only 7 a.m.

My fat belly and possible cancer

worry me. With a few months

to live, I'd search the wilderness

for some wisdom I missed. Or

plain beauty of natural randomness.

Knowing that, why do I remain

in health? I must devote my

present to my future existence.

The bluejays complain long after

everyone else is silent.

Love and friendship need the body

and society. You belong, you want

to belong, three days in wilderness

and you gladly return to

lovers' arms and plumbing.

But one day you die. And this

is the ideal independence you sought.

This death is the pristine aloneness, 

the untouched wilderness and

freedom from necessity! And

it is certain. You do not save

for it. You do not worry that

you may miss your opportunity.