I heard a man on the radio argue his case.
He said he spoke for his children’s lives
and his grandchildren’s lives.
He lay awake, fearful for their futures.

Unlike me.
Nobody bears my genes.
I am free to love anyone,
can cherish them entirely selfishly,
can lie awake, fretting for their futures
and for the fate of their bodies,
and for my own, which will die with me,

which will lie in the earth with maybe a goat or a ewe
to crop at the grass growing out of me
and maybe the grass will be rainy and wet,
and maybe a wind will run through it,
and maybe no longer being human
will be like blowing light.