Dandelion Moon on Fire

You don't owe life anything.
(I'll get to what you owe other people
In a moment.) You'll be punished,
Of course, and rewarded as well,
But you won't be the reason, ever,
Gone before you can ponder it,
This Way. Within the dreaming
Of these dreams, without
Dreaming them, he rose,
Woke up and walked free.
Ordinary dark. . . . And then it goes.
It's real usual, usually, for people
To leave. The way they want things,
Things that can't be done:
Obelisks, burial in the grove
Of the favorite trees, cute quotes.

"Why not your glasses, too?"

Oh well. Do the best you can. Know
You can't. Quote someone else.
Scatter the ashes somewhere legal,
Somewhen. Send him a cenotaph.

Oh god, I forgot to get back to that.