Once when I’m dead
I’d like to be a lamp
next to your bed
to brighten up your night
with soothing light.
Or hang beside your gate
when rain falls late
and morning does not want to come.
I’d wink at those who walk, forlorn,
out of the alleyways of dawn
and far from home.
Or, maybe, you could carry me along
a lane, where children go
and memories ease,
a paper lantern with a happy glow,
that’s swinging in the breeze
to the wind’s song.
.
