In Memory of His Smile
If I could choose a place to die
the way, the day, the time
my will would walk me
down the path
‘long about a mile
Heart of the woods
to silent slip
beneath a stand of birch
buried deep
unsullied snow
to lay my love
to rest
Not one to mourn
or weep regrets
never to be found again
O to sleep eternally
the dust that covers war
with peace
Swaddled by a Winter sky
changing clouds and chasing light
the place where I once
posed the trees
for snapshots
they allowed me keep
In memory of
his smile.
© 2004
January Grey
