Jack Otterberg

To All Things

I lay at the base of a tiny hill,
Waiting to disappear: it’s
Frigid
But I’ve never been warmer
In my skin.

To be a part of everything,
No matter how forgotten: such
Is the point of life.

I’ve finally found the love,
And want my bones to bloom
Something better
In its name.

Some day you all will learn
What I was late to— by then
There’ll be no me— just
Flowers,
And the memory of someone
Who’s shed existence
To become nothing.

When you touch the grass
Where my body lied,
It’s not me— nature
Has cleansed itself,
And spreads peace
Across your soles—

Keep walking, don’t stop—
Everywhere
Is the greatest thing
To happen to you.