One more night

If I knew I was going to die tonight, around midnight or so, let’s say, in my sleep – I don’t think I’d jump on the next plane to Vegas.  Or Kilimanjaro.  Or Palau.  I don’t think I’d race out to the ocean and jump into the cold surf under the fat, full moon.

I wouldn’t call everyone I know or ever knew or cared for.  I wouldn’t write my last words to the world, or try to explain to them all the things I did and didn’t do, even if I could.  And I wouldn’t get my house in order; no, I’m quite certain there would be neither pen nor paper nor computer screen in my last evening of life.

I think I would just sit here and watch the light go down across the bay, the silhouette of the island growing more and then less distinct against the fading sky.

And, if you think it might be something you’d like, I’d have you here with me.

One Response to “One more night”

  1. Jayne Says:

    Whoever this is written to, I hope she or he sees it. It’s beautiful.

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