selfie #1

how is it that you get to be         who you are

rain falls on late summer sedum

everyone you used to love is gone

you are not the architect of this feeble fantasy

all that you have made abroad and

assembled here from parts        none of it built to last

what you were given was time

what you squandered        what you were given

was rain sluicing your skin after love

now part of the made-to-order architecture

now part of the ruined temple        now build up

your monuments         now bury your dead