A Life Perhaps Not Squandered

One day
I will close my eyes
and fade away
into the morning fog
like a fox
on light black feet
slips into the thicket
beyond which
no one else can go.

When that happens,
use what you will
for some good purpose
and make smoke and dust
with whatever remains,

for that is all
I am
and ever was
before somehow
the great fortune
of birth
thrust into me
a life
that perhaps
was not squandered
as much as some
routinely
predicted.