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Will you pick
strawberries after I’m gone?
Kneel in the dirt and
the sand?
Will you take your
children out to the fields,
forging a bond with
the land?
Will you feed
hummingbirds after I’m gone?
Sunflower seeds for
the jays?
Will you know that it’s
the cardinal’s song
beckoning you through
the haze?
Will you plant
daffodils after I’m gone?
Wait for the blooms
Aprils bring?
Follow the
butterflies in the May sun?
Remember me most in
the spring.
10 comments:
This poem is really beautiful, I love it. As I grow older I wonder about being remembered,,,your poem expresses this hope/need so well,,
LOVE this! So winsome and softly questioning.
This is a poem to treasure.
Delicate and as Margaret says: winsome.
You put the matter of memory so wisely, with just that touch of pleading. The dactyls seem to make the lines dance. So glad you agreed to try them.
This is beautiful. I would love to have people remember me this way.
I agree with Aprille, a poem to treasure.
K
Just lovely, Lola. I'm 56 and starting to think, in the vaguest way, of how I'll be remembered.
This also reminded me of a song, "If Ever I Would Leave You," from the Broadway show "Camelot."
Spring, the time of rebirth, and a fitting time to remember those who have been born into a new existence. Peace, Amy
Oh, that's really lovely.
What a beautiful piece!
This is beautiful: melodious, colourful and uplifting.
I like this sweet poem. Reminds me of all the things I learned from my love.
This is lovely, it makes me feel a little sad but it is beautiful
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