or ‘The End?’

For Hoban Washburne

I rather think I won’t be quite surprised
when all the water boils off into space,
leaving, as Pink Floyd said, ‘only charcoal
to defend.’ Nor will it seem so strange that
suddenly there’ll be nothing left I prized,
like breath. I’ve known that goes. We lose that race
when we begin. This marble will just roll
away and end each thing that we’ve begat.

But is that how it ends, the universe?
Is this all that there’ll be? Or is there more
to come and we just must accept the grief?
Tossed in time’s deep closet, like some old purse?

Life’s been fun. I guess if I’d kept a score
I think I’d win. I’ve been both wind and leaf.