If I should die tomorrow,
bury me beneath
our willow tree
where the soaked sand
and river rock,
I might one day be.
Pray you,
remember that place
upon the soggy banks
where long leaves tickle,
dance,
and the water's surface, do grace.
Bury me where we once sat
on splayed and sand locked roots.
Perhaps the tree may take me
and I shall live there too;
stretching towards heaven and sunlight
as I often did in life,
but rooted in the darkness
that cut me deep with certain strife.
Bury me there where I loved you
and where you said you loved me too.
Make me happy in my death
as life could never do.
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Submission Name: The Wept Over Willow
