Alive

Now is the time of memories

So when all is dead and gone

Except for you, and the man next door,

And the tree down the block

That gives thin shade to neighborhood children

Riding in carriages, on bicycles, in cars

As they pass along their way,

Screaming and yelling into the spirited afternoon

A collection of wild-eyed dandelions

Growing free and without abandon

Between the cracks on the curbs

In the dimness of the elm

In the yard of the old man next door;

And what you see now will be sweet, and dear, and old

And you will cling to it in your arms like a husband does his wife

When he is asleep, and his love for her is unfiltered.

Memorize with ardor the sunset of tonight

Repeat in silence the songs of birds flitting ahead.

And live, live, live.

Live so when the darkness sets

And the Red Sea closes

You might still be

Alive.