My Last Poem

There are days now I wonder, on starting a new rhyme if this one’s my last or if muse will inspire with its gifts, gold that shines? Tick, tock, tick, now just words mark time’s flow in my life, what lends weight, what erodes banks through pastures I traverse, desilting life’s pebbles that color my way or attract eye of child (with their stillness) when everything else seems so fluid. In my bones I feel ancient, more kin to a Druid, more sand on a beach that lacks shape than Conch filed (let me toot my own horn)! Oh, I’m not one who rebels at ‘dying of light’ for I know a star’s codes are what push back the night, and give dust what rhyme calls spark! Let lightning bug’s flash be one goal I aspire to and love for creation - intention of heart’s time. Brian Johnston 23rd of September in 2022