that time i asked about dying

we don't die you say leading me over stones and pebbles beside the rahway creek. you stoop to pick one up, roll the smooth gem between your fingers and look back. the corner of your mouth twitches into a grin and in one motion the rest of you pitches it into the living waters. ripples and splashes jog merrily downstream, others dying each just a little for us maybe, like the christians say jesus did his own little tashlich welcoming a new year by the shores of galilee.