You know, there’d still be the trees
And the flowers and the birds, all singing;
There’d still be the rivers, the lapping waters
And the long and lonely mountains;

There’d still be the deer and the rabbits
Jumping, running away
And there’d still be bushes of berries and forest fruit;

There’d still be skies of clouds and ground below
Life, and death.

There’d still be the world without you
But I don’t want that world.

6.I.23