When It's Done

When I die, lay my body at the bellows of the river. Take up a hand of crushed sand and toss it into it's vigorous rush.
Bring no bond made of words.
Carry in your soul those ties forged beyond the edges of this world.
Drop lilies of sunshined tears into babbling brooks.
Leave the stones where they fall. Make no memory of loss.

But
Do not forget the sunlight on your cheek as aI lay next to you
or the lightning rods we hopped over while clutching at each other.
And
I won't forget your steady hand pouring steaming cups of liquid chammomile as we sat on the porch remembering Jasmine, or the stick figures I drew clothes on from the book under your dusty bed.

Yes, when I close my eyes at last
i will only hear your voice
calling--
'Grace.'

Original poem by me, Grace K. Lewis