Coming into the kitchen to prepare my breakfast
I immediately saw a huge moth lying on its back
perfectly still in the middle of the floor.

Staring down at it, I imagined that my own ending
would look pretty similar, the only difference being
that I’ll likely be lying in a bed with a few people
looking down on me: maybe a doctor, a nurse,
and hopefully my wife, who’ll have tears in her eyes.

And at my memorial service, several will comment
that I looked really good right up to the end—
knowing very little what I was feeling inside. . .