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

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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

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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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