Overtaken

In those days I will become.
Instead of me, a disappearing mess.
As in an empty city lot, nature will take over.

What will be taken?
Everything. Consumed absolute.
Total becoming. My atoms spun out into atmosphere.
Absolution. Sweet rest, shapely as a blade 
Of grass

When will it be over?
I will not experience time, but others will.
Admire my nodding weeds
Breezed and brazen with mismatched black-eyed blooms
My brave saplings, bouncy as boxers
Eventually each patch of my dust will drape a lichen duvet
And exhale

Alastair McIvor 2024.