If You Should Die Before I Do
By Patricia Ranzoni
I’ll come wherever you’re praised.
Sit or stand in the back, quietly,
As I came whenever I came
among those you’ve loved. As any
grateful heart knows not how
to thank a source for song. At least
I knew you enough
to comprehend gave. If you should die first,
I’ll come bare-footed when you
are alone. Don’t worry, nothing tasteless
to clutter your grave,
only my dust and petals and pollens
from my beds to sift into yours,
and in this way I might come to hold you,
with the others,
perhaps forever.
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