“I’m not sure if I know how to do this”
were nonesuch the last words father doth spoke.
Obeisant, I gave my father a kiss,
turned round from the bed, tears welling, I choked.
“I’m not sure if I know how to do this”
is the query must needs all humans face.
We draw the penultimate breath, next is bliss?
Or do we poof! Vanish! Life’s quiet grace.
“I’m not sure if I know how to do this.”
None need to harvest an elegant plan.
Your life well-lived shall not meet an abyss
That shalt not happen; good woman or man.
This be sure, my handsome friends, take solace.
Do good whilst here — thy legacy? Flawless.
{David Stanley:DStan58} June 2019
