Tomorrow
Tomorrow
we are
bones and ash,
the roots of weeds
poking through
our skulls.
Today,
simple clothes,
empty mind,
full stomach,
alive, aware,
right here,
right now.
Drunk on music,
who needs wine?
Come on,
Sweetheart,
let’s go dancing
while we’ve
still got feet.
[from WHILE WE’VE STILL GOT FEET, by David Budbill | Copper Canyon Press, 2005]
Having celebrated the life of Win Redding of Waukesha just yesterday, a man of only 54 with a lovely wife and three boys, this Budhill verse hits especially hard home. His service included the hymn, “The Lord of the Dance.”
Thank you for your time-honored selections!
If there’s not a cajun two step going on at my funeral pyre, I’m not going to speak to any of you again!
(bring marshmallows … )
It is the last stanza that delights me most. Our spirits are
important, our vision maps our roads, but how glorious
to have feet to dance with!