In the afterlife I wish for others,
they will spend their time
with the five people they took the most from
and the five people they gave the most to.
These may or may not
be the same five people.
Nothing may be forgotten,
and nothing further may be learned.
Hours a day will be spent
sitting in a circle
looking at one another
in silent accusation.
Thousands of birds will come
and settle in the bushes, in the trees,
and occasionally lightning will flash
across the sky.
Flesh will go.
Bones will go.
Dust will go.
Much, much later,
the accusations will go.
What was given and what was taken
will be as nothing,
and the birds will rise from the bushes,
rise from the trees, rise from the ground,
and fly away again.