to stop this dying in my sleep.

Everything

I live in what I give away:
in photos, flowers, polished stones,
a book or ring, a porcelain trinket,
a figurine of which I say,
This one's my favorite, but it means
much more to me for you to have it.

But also in the time I give,
to listen, try to understand
everything time takes: the flower,
the photo of a relative,
the polish on the stone, a friend,
a pledge and ring that slips the finger.

And finally even how I live,
till I'm afraid to give away
what, for tomorrow, I should keep:
some memory of those who leave,
some token that recalls the way
to stop this dying in my sleep.

Michael T. Young

From: poemtree.com

-------------------------------------