Here, at the End

Here, at the End

All should be simple.
Lay me in the earthy dim
beneath tall grass
and lilies that sway

as a trumpeter’s brass
amid a slide of music and song.
Bid the sprites, with glass wings,
to hum quiet charms

recalling the breath I’ve spent
listening to trees whisper
secrets to the air
Call the goblins, that lurk

in black caves,
to drum, as thunderous hearts,
their confessions:
I knew each of their names.

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