I immured watch the woods decay. Half bored by the rotting landscape, listlessly aware of the screaming cicada. Helpless in this aged body reduced like the woods to dire consciousness in spite of the bloom around me. What tree is this which blooms unceasing? How sad to see a flower that never fades. How I envy every fallen leaf. If you had asked me, you would be ageless. You could be ageless. You'll never see my grave, I'll never see yours