The Final End Approaches!

I have a rendezvous with Death
At some disputed barricade,
When Spring comes back with rustling shade
And apple-blossoms fill the air—
I have a rendezvous with Death
When Spring brings back blue days and fair.

It may be he shall take my hand
And lead me into his dark land
And close my eyes and quench my breath—
It may be I shall pass him still.
I have a rendezvous with Death
On some scarred slope of battered hill,
When Spring comes round again this year
And the first meadow-flowers appear.

God knows 'twere better to be deep
Pillowed in silk and scented down,
Where Love throbs out in blissful sleep,
Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath,
Where hushed awakenings are dear ...
But I've a rendezvous with Death
At midnight in some flaming town,
When Spring trips north again this year,
And I to my pledged word am true,
I shall not fail that rendezvous.

I Have a Rendezvous with Death

 
If I could take something with me I think I’d take memory.
Even knowing that in the end, past the door, we all go with nothing but what we’ve been.

Not the grand, highlight-reel stuff. Not the awards or the headlines. I’d take the small moments:

The way a room sounds when everyone you love is in it.
The weight of a good tool in your hand that’s worn smooth from years of use.
A dog settling down because he knows you’re steady.
A note someone left that meant more than it looked like it did.

If memory isn’t allowed, maybe I’d take the ability to recognize meaning, the sense that even simple things matter. Without that, nothing else I might carry would have much worth.
 
Given that the average lifespan is 75.8 Stateside and 79.1 on this side of the pond, many of us are already living on borrowed time.
The Grim Reaper has been following you for years Mitch, waiting for you to give up. He's filed a restraining order against you because your constant whinge about him is killing his vibe.
 

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