Moving On. by Joani

I wonder when I’ll die.
Probably sooner rather than later.
I have been cradled through my good times
and comforted in the worst.

I wonder if my death will be sore,
frightening or a surprise.
If I’ll have agency or fear.
Will I travel gratefully or fight the unknown.
Lucid or confused.

I wonder if I will be remembered kindly.
Another mote of dust dancing on a sunbeam.