Because we don′t know when we will die

We get to think of life as an inexhaustible well

Yet everything happens only a certain number of timesAnd a very small number, really

How many more times will you remember

A certain afternoon of your childhood

Some afternoon that is so deeply a part of your being

That you can't even conceive your life without it?

Perhaps four or five times more

Perhaps not even that

How many more times will you watch the full moon rise?

Perhaps twenty, and yet it all seems limitless