Leveler Poetry Journal
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For many years life won’t

let you in, which will only

make you think

more of it. Even time

will pass on. Time will grow

thin like a ponytail. You’ll take buses

to trains to planes.

You’ll be disappointed

it was such a short

and comfortable ride.

You’ll see people die and wonder

how you could possibly live

enough to make up for it.

You can’t.

In darkness, the sky will

become the hide

of some gargantuan

mammal. Possibly a parent.

Heed this: Admire the details

on buildings. Bask in material

triumphs. Death will be there.

Ignore it for now.

Lizzie Harris