In a life
and then return
to the place that gave us our souls.
We are born,
it is the first stop.
Live out your days in the weeds
and comb your hair with a shell.
Love your place
and love your family.
Die with others
or die alone.
But the last stop is always the last.
When you return
it will always be the last.
I want my last stop to be where my first one was.