I Grew Up Wealthy

I grew up wealthy beyond all nations with three siblings in my bedroom.

Sleeping out, we counted a few billion stars. Why settle for five?

Local crickets performed for us the finest Schubert quartet. Birdsong guaranteed sleep.

When I got older, I wanted to be a millionaire and a famous artist.

I was still rich—in longing for my heart's desire.

…

Now with siblings old, some gone, my friends talk of retirement and 401(k)s.

Life has been spent.

He who has a friend has a fortune.

My neighbor has lost his wife to the greediest of all—the one who collects humans, plants, and animals and feeds us to the flowers.

Death sits easy in his garden as Apollo plays the lyre.

…

And you—are you well furnished for old age with royal memories and extravagant wit?

Have you more love than ire?