In five seconds your face fades from my memory-

          even if the warmth of your smile still comforts my heart.

In a five years all your things will be taken, or sold-

          even if I try to hold onto that last painting you made.

In fifty years, they'll speak of you like a distant memory-

          all your best friends and our family and your students.

In five hundred years, perhaps a photo may not even remain

          since you so hated the digital world.

In five thousand years perhaps there will be no one left-

          and you would've laughed and said it took longer than you thought.  

But the oxygen particles around once passed your lips,

And that piece of sand contains a bit of your ashes,

And that apple growing has the same phosphorous from your ATP,

And dolphin there is the great great great .... great descendant of the one you saved.