Dancing on my back in a bathtub full of glass.
Rend the hump & hardy flesh of my back & ass.
I could wish for pain to take a day, or ten, off.
I could wish for a better fed spot at life’s trough.
But, I’m not wasting any wishes, or curses…
Not over things that still inspire my verses!
When my days are done, you will inherit some things.
Not money or land, nor any precious gold rings.
I’ll leave music; I’ll leave laughter for each of you.
I’ll leave you tears & I’ll leave you words that were true.
In total, I’ll leave the heart & the art of me.
Frankly, I’m jealous of the lives heirlooms may see.
L.B.Stowe 