the globe

I stare at the world,
the globe
on the table.
perfectly round. green
and blue
for water, the seas,
the brush of
brown for land,
white mountain caps,
the soft
sands.
I spin it with eyes
closed
and press a finger upon
the metal ball.
then look to see the place
where i'll never go.
i'm here,
it seems for good.
plant
me.
water me. see that my
grave is kept clean.