Friday, November 11, 2011

#12 - Graveparents' graves

Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled 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.
The cedar trees planted on either side of the grave for my great grandparents

1 day, 500 miles, a dozen roses, graves for both maternal and paternal grandparents as well as 6 great-grandparents and other relatives ...

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