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.