The Red Madras Headdress
by Henri Matisse, 1907
Wild turkeys wandered on 8th Street today,
Tomorrow? Who knows? Maybe 5th Street.
No one asks why. It just happens.
A opossum lived in my backyard for a couple years
And one day disappeared.
Did it die or merely get weary of suburban life?
Summer becomes winter, and vice-versa.
Whatever your age, you’ll never be
This young again.
Nothing is permanent, not even hell.
We die, and go under the ground,
Then one day we are the ground.
Or perhaps our ashes are put in the river,
Then one day we are the river.
That’s what heaven is.
There doesn’t have to be an afterlife
For us to go on.
Brother, sister, we are the universe.
Fear is the cheapest room in the house. I would like to see you living in better conditions.