The Moya View

Tag: schema

  • Someday

    Someday

    SomedayNo plot for this body when I die,no pine needles puncturing my back,no false fir lullabies of the wind.I refuse to rest in golden valleys,tune my ear to bird garblethat mistakes decay for music.Moss is not a cradle.Salt is not salvation.Worms don’t bless.I won’t become part of the “cycle.”I’m not compost.I’m the interruption.Death in a…