Let’s leave it all a little too late

maybe an hour        thirty minutes

                                                   whatever seems best.

Keep our feet

grounded

              rushing to play

 one last song              you’d pick it, of course,                    

                                                           you’re the bandmaster

                                                           deciding to be nearer to God.

I’ll be the pianist

or maybe the violinist.

                                                       I never really learned how to play,

                                                       but I’m sure no one will be able to tell

at least not now,

so, it’ll be alright.

The crescendo arrives

when you say

          It’s been a privilege playing with you.

but I refuse, screaming

de capo!–

   trying to stretch out how long

   a last song can truly

last.