I will die, not in a place or at a time I know.

Someday I will die on a threshold
not of my choosing.

I will die, when it is time.  I need
not remember to take off my shoes
or lift my skirts or comb my hair.

My bones will chatter as they clatter
in remembrance of a life well lived.

I will die embraced in gentleness and welcome
for I have tasted death
or at least have gotten close enough to
glimpse my eternity.

Lexanne is dead. And there will be no
need to remember, not me, not myself,
not the life I lived.

For we are all dust of stars, one and the same,
Molded and shaped by a hand so dear,
within us placed one cherished heart
shared.

I will die at a time I welcome in gratitude.
I will dance across the threshold
not in slippers or well heeled,
I will die in spirit freed.

.

.

.

Author’s Note:

Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt:  ” Today, let’s rewrite a famous poem, giving it our own spin. While any famous poem will do, if you haven’t already got one in mind, why not try your own version of Cesar Vallejo’s Black Stone Lying on a White Stone? If you’re not exactly sure how such a poem could be “re-written,” check out this recent poem by Stephen Burt, which riffs on Vallejo’s.”