• I will garden on the double run,
    my rhythm obvious in the ringing rakes,
    and trust in fate to keep me poor and kind
    and work until my heart is short,
    then go out slowly with a feeble grin,
    my fingers flexing but my eyes gone gray
    from cramps and the lack of oxygen.

    Richard Hugo, Ripley S. Hugo (1992). “The Real West Marginal Way: A Poet's Autobiography”, p.169, W. W. Norton & Company