SOMETHING TO BELIEVE
C Diane Ealy

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Am I having delusions of control when I say,
“I chose the how and when of my leaving this life, 
so there’s really no point in being upset about that part of this picture?”
That’s a rhetorical question so you don’t have to answer.
Now that I’m finished with my body, finished with this lifetime – 
nice planet, by the way – you can simply sharpen my head
and drive me into the ground. I’ve never been fond
of the space that cemeteries take up. 
My personal preference is that my body be cremated, 
my ashes mixed with all my cats’ ashes. 
Don’t keep them in a carved wooden box on your mantel 
or even a lovely brass urn that you paid too much money for. 
Sprinkle me outside into the ocean or the Grand Canyon
or the Chiricahuas – someplace peaceful and beautiful 
somewhere people don’t walk. Let me be carried by the wind.