A Poem: The Last Time
by bernt & torsten
You never know when it will be,
The last time you ski down slopes of snow,
Feeling the wind whisper past your face,
Thinking, “I’ll do this again,” but nevermore.
The last time you touched someone,
A sexual graze, shared passion,
In the breath of the moment's action,
Not knowing it’s the last embrace.
The last time you travel,
When wanderlust swells and fades,
Feet on foreign soil, sights unknown,
Gone before you know it's the end.
The last time you cycle, wheels turning
In sync with the beat of your heart,
Paths once familiar, now distant memories,
A silent goodbye to pedals and paths.
The last time you swim,
Water cradling you in its tender embrace,
Moments float, but one will be the last,
Unknown until the surface is broken no more.
The last time you visit a place,
The streets that held your gaze,
Their doorways and whispers fade,
Never to welcome you again.
The last time you drive,
Hands on the wheel, eyes on the road,
The world rushing by in shades of grey,
Till your hands rest in stillness, unaware.
To every habit, there will be an end,
Unmarked by ceremony or fanfare,
For life is a series of last times,
That come and go, without a hint or care.
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