funny from Letters Home by march

I think I'm ready for the passing of time to meet me
Like waves on the shores of frozen beaches
Like branches of beeches on the forest floor
After storm

Who can I be if not another corpse to rot for insects to compost?

And it used to be so funny,
When did life become so funny?

But I am nimble as birch and strong as oak,
I am a thorn in the side and a reflection of hope,
But who knows if that will serve me
When I am food for worms.

Is there anything more important than that?

And it used to be so funny,
Tell me why am I not laughing?

Maybe the greatest poetry is that which
We make with our doings,
And maybe those doings are best done
While time still abounds.

And it used to be so easy,
I wish life was still so funny.

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