You will bury me

Small victories are pointless

When every life amounts to a series of losses

Lower burning lights too begin to flicker

Signposts leading dying minds to the infinite

First breaths crystallize and fade without audience

The weakest elk knows quietly what he dies for

Thankful for the unspoken but visceral promise

That this planet will erase me

I will be less than the foam on the waves

I will be less than the steam that rises from the elk's last breath