Looking at life

After the bones
it does not matter.
I will not see the sun climb.
Or the moon at rest, again.
Even the death blossoms
will mean very little.
Now, I am an expert on the
time that I have left.
So, using each
of my living cells.
I choose wandering days.
With my eyes open
and senses buzzing.
There will be no silent
death for me.

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