1928 - 2002


A Peom for Mom

Do not stand at my grave and weep.

I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am the thousand winds that blow.

I am diamond glints on snow.

I am sunlight on ripened grain.

I am gentle autumnal rain.

When you waken in the morning hush,

I am the soft uplifting rush

Of quiet birds circled in flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

DO not stand at my grave and cry.

I am not there. I did not die.