Twilight

Traveling at God’s light speed

That invisible imaginary

Ambilocal cord is never cut

I’m his guide, I’m his light

I’d rather play with

Gardener snakes

Then go fishing

In his twilight years

I don’t want him to disappear

The best way

To have someone dead

Is by reading the obituaries

When your love dies, who do

You live for

Your grandchildren