in that moment

   
   
   
if I should turn my  
face from the  
sun and walk  
away  
   
if I should dismiss    
the moon from my  
sight on some wine  
dark kissed night  
   
if I should forego  
the living warmth    
of a summers    
breeze  
   
and hide myself    
away from the  
robin, the cardinal,  
the starlings songs  
in praise to the sky  
   
if I should forget  
the simple joy of  
lighting a smoke  
after the day has  
brought the gift    
of exhaustion to  
my body  
   
if I should find that    
words have become  
a failed harvest    
   
and creativity had  
fled like some scorned    
lover    
   
then I will finally    
know    
   
that I have lived    
   
far  
   far  
       far  
           too  
               long  
   
and in that    
moment  
 
I will  
go  
   
do not    
weep  
for  
me