By Edward Abbey
YES — even after my death
you shall not escape me
I’ll follow you
in the eyes of every hawk,
every falcon, vulture, eagle
that soars in whatever sky
you walk beneath,
all the earth over,
everywhere.
Yes — and when you die too,
and follow me into that deep
dark burning delicious blue
and become like me —
a kind of bird, a feathered thing —
why, then I’ll seek you out
ten thousand feet above the sea;
and far beyond the world’s rim
we’ll meet and clasp and couple
close to the flaming sun
and scream the joy of our love
into the blaze of death
and burn like angels
down through the stars
past all the suns
to the world’s beginning again.
“Earth Apples: Collected Poems,” by Edward Abbey
