Don’t build me a coffin

of coromandel wood,

just leave me be.

No ormolu brass handles,

not for me.

No church, no pews, no prayers

and not that final curtain call.

Please.

 

Dress me in white lace

as for my wedding day.

Carry me to the meadow

and just let me lay.

Circle me with daisy chains

if you must

for there is nothing more to say

and all is dust.

 

You may forget my name

my voice my face

but maybe if you ever come

to this quiet place

to see the meadow where the daisies grow

blow a sweet kiss to me

and then I’ll know

that somewhere in your heart

there’s still a place

where you keep my name,

my voice, my face.

 

 

photo : Keith1999