Pistol Smoke

No more energy to fire as age can’t muster
Conscious any pin could mean a popping
Lost all rabid zest to carry on further
The now must have more midday naps
Bodies stiffening up like ice cubes
Many drifting in arctic ocean spaces
So past cucumber cool fast passing
Each one some last leaf unpainted on a wall
Most final words least to be found quoted
Bows rosined once now bowing into amber resin
Only an empty glass falling to break in slow motion
Set to slide through the grate of time into the unseen
Find the bottom step hardest to take but easiest to find
Watch them all a flower as we will wilt at last