I surrender to the three-legged sun
rushing round the earth
so fast I can’t keep up.

I surrender to the triskelion
tattooed on my shoulder
and to the sunset of my life.

One day there will be no more of me,
neither bone nor ash will remain,
not a strand of hair.

But these flowers will flower
with my love woven into their fabric
and they shall be my eyes in a blind world.

The fig leaves will return
with my courage and spirit
caught in their wind and shaking their hands.

The three-legged sun will return
running up the hill, like sunrise,
and I’ll be home again.