When I am gone

cricket

when I am gone

 

when I’m gone

do not cut flowers

plant seeds and watch

the new shoots push tiny stubborn heads

out of the soft brown earth

leaves unfolding like the wings of a bird

taking flight for the first time

 

remember me

on spring and summer morns

when the sun pours over

the quiet streets and houses

like music from a

sweet old jazz quartet’s

finely aged ballads

 

when I’m gone

do not fell trees for a box

plant my weary flesh in the ground

free of chemicals

it has no shame being naked

no fear of the worms and the roots

it will feed

 

remember that the earth

will receive its prodigal son

like everything that returns to it

it does not mourn

why should it

I’m no more important than

the trees or the ants

 

when I am gone

no need for words or tears

what you didn’t say to me

when I was alive

don’t bother saying when

I am

gone

 

poem © 2018 by Tommi Avicolli Mecca, drawing © 1976 by Bob Avicolli

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