what survives

 who says that all must vanish

 who knows, perhaps the flight

 of the bird you wound remains

 and perhaps flowers survive caresses in the ground

 it isn't the gesture that lasts

 but it dresses you again in gold

 armor--from breast to knees--

 and the battle was so pure

 an Angel wears it after you...

-What Survives by Rainer Maria Rilke; photos: scenes from US Route 20