Setting My Own House in Order

Is this what I am doing now?
Preparing my life to die?
Making my own hospice bed?
Bracing for the prospect of growing cold?
Hmmmmm, no.
I’d rather be a dog
and bang my teeth against your leg,
chase deer through the woods,
moonhowl,
find sheep skulls and grin
with fond hope of juice inside.
How can you pity that, friend?
Undoing…
reckoning with…
being culpable…
grieving…
that is not my story today
and I am sticking to it
for now.