Do not stand at my grave and drip
into the earth recalling me
as something better than I was;
I won't be there.
If I were to loiter, I wouldn't do it
in a graveyard, I'd head for somewhere
brighter to commence my days of death;
I'd choose for instance, peaceful oceans -
would not want a shoveled hole
with mourners dropping dirt onto my coffin,
sobbing - waling up a fuss;
I'd much prefer you laughed,
it's less off-putting - aesthetically speaking... and
in hopes you're thinking of cremation,
may I ask that I be scattered on a gusty wind
off the top of Beachy Head, or Buster Hill.
How exhilarating it would feel to fly
and fall as dancing dust
and to be part of our great universe...
Do not plan to stand at my grave and weep.