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Where I'll Be
October 7, 2010
Don’t look for me,
My dearest,
When my breath last winds the earth,
For just know that I’ll be in the place,
With the flowers,
And the stars.
I’ll be in the place,
Where we dance,
But not to,
Pianos,
Or electric guitars.
No,
We’ll waltz.
But not to,
A violin,
Or a choir.
No,
To something,
Just a bit more,
Whimsical.
Magical.
Faint.
Like a hummingbird,
Or a cricket
Or silence.
For,
I’ll be in the arms,
Of the hemlock tree,
In that warm sunny place
Where they grow.
For,
I’ll be in the place,
Where the grass grows green,
And the songs
Of the sea
Never slow.
© Christy S., Germantown, NY
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