When I am gone


when I am gone



when I am gone

do not expect signs or miracles

only the unraveling of new leaves

from wintry stems 

seedlings shooting up through the ground   


on a hot summer morn remember

how I craved the sun pouring over

streets and houses 

and running down my skin

thick and full like fresh molasses


a simple wooden box or cotton cloth

a simple spot in the ground is enough

I go where I was meant to go

don’t bother mourning

carry on my work


what you didn’t say to me 

when I was here

don’t bother saying then


poem © 2014 by Tommi Avicolli Mecca, drawing © 1976 by Bob Avicolli

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