Do I savour this sunny afternoon; the myriad leaves in the sun-lit wood in a myriad shapes and shades of green, and the trunks of massive trees silently holding up the living, vaulted ceiling high above my head?
There's a flutter of wings and a blur of colour,
and later, walking across the green I pass murmuring voices and sometimes laughter and in the warmth, friendship and tranquillity.
Though there's much I love to see and much I want to see as my children and their children journey into their tomorrows and from this summer through succeeding seasons,
I note these things dispassionately.
My life did not end in that room at that time.
But end it surely will.
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