Compost to the Brim

My compost pile is full. Fortunately, every day it sinks an inch, like a freshly dug grave.

The compost pile i'm subtracting from is young. I can still see the remains of last summer's clean-up when i ripped out a sizable patch of pachysandra and yanked out galloping ostrich ferns. The rhizomes of both are still completely recognizable. Only the green leaves have decomposed and disappeared.

I screen the young compost into a wheelbarrow and throw the chunky remains into the new compost pile. Every day i fill it to the brim. Every night, the heap sinks as if it's exhaling its last breath.

One of these days we too will be on the compost pile of life, with our cremains spread on land or water.

Until then, i'll enjoy the feel of the fresh, rich compost sifting through my fingers.