This is a place to live

Written by: Paul Sylvester

the lake sits glassy and smooth
	songbirds of noon
have long since retired
in their place sound shrill chirp
        squawk and croon

faded peach and blue,
diffuse light yet left,
spread their peaceful, off-tint hues
while mortal reds lighten and bloom;
this is a place to die.

unlike the bleach bright White
of a temporary cot and room:
this is a place to be consumed 
by patchwork green,
and the ponderous weight of night

to relax the coil and tangles
of the knotted life I choose;
this is a place to die
		drowse enchanted
lose my sturdy suit and tie.

I will trade for the industrial tomb
these womblike evergreens
to play nursemaid and tray-in
the last cups of clean dusk air
quietly.