June 6, 2012

If You Will

Are you going
to the grave
up on the hill?
Remember me
to one who lives there,
she wonders why
I've not been by,
just as I wonder
why she's so still.
Lay these by her stone,
if only you will.
She'll remember
what they're for,
where they grow wild
down by the rill
in May each
warm spring still.
They'll not mind
being up on the hill,
just this time,
if only you will.