<p>Barging in, no knock. What sort of intruder is this?</p><p><br/></p><p>“Oh hi, I’m your August visitor.”</p><p><br/></p><p>But visitors don’t trespass, nor do they take away what isn’t theirs.</p><p><br/></p><p>So hello, call me before you come. Send me emails, even if they go to spam. DM me, tell me to pack my things—you’re taking me on a trip.</p><p><br/></p><p>Oh, yeah, no luggage allowed on the trip you’ll take me on.</p><p><br/></p><p>So at least do me the favor of informing me I’ll soon be a memory.</p><p><br/></p><p>Let me pay my last respects and give flowers to whom they are due. Say one last “I love you” and hold them tight one last time,</p><p><br/></p><p>till they can’t see me, yet I can.</p><p><br/></p><p>Before I become the tourist and the earth my tour attraction,</p><p><br/></p><p>before I become history and just a memory,</p><p><br/></p><p>before I become a “was,” before each caption reads, “Rest in peace,”</p><p><br/></p><p>send me notifications and ring like an alarm,</p><p><br/></p><p>so I can get up early and await your arrival.</p><p><br/></p><p>Maybe write a will so I know my kids are safe. Tell a friend, so the grief is less. Withdraw from the bank, so they don’t need to worry.</p><p><br/></p><p>Please, oh, please—I can’t—</p><p><br/></p><p>please inform me. Delay your coming.</p><p><br/></p><p>I’m singing, “Rain, rain, go away,” just one last dance, I pray.</p><p><br/></p><p>I want to write and sing and read to the ones I call home,</p><p><br/></p><p>before I’m called home.</p><p><br/></p><p>If wishes were horses, even beggars wouldn’t ride.</p><p><br/></p><p>Horses are expensive.</p><p><br/></p><p>So this wish of mine, this plea I make—I can’t afford,</p><p><br/></p><p>for I can’t bargain with Death.</p>