a poet's epilogue

will it matter that I knew you?

that I notice light spinning
off maple keys

thrown from their canopy

to die under bicycle tires

pushed by gangly boys?

will I place my heart more carefully

after I watch leaves painting

small strokes of sunlight

freed from purple skies

and indolent raindrops?

did the words have meaning

when the waves wiped sand

from my feet

and left smooth stones

for my fingers?

and in the end
will I matter?