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I want to be buried surrounded by the fields of my youth … next to other kindred souls who decided to lie in similar peace on that grassy knoll sheltered by a giant oak,  it’s limbs spread wide to shield us … it’s roots embracing our boxed homes,

cradling us in our

sleep …

distant from the hub-bub of life … too far away for casual visitors with plastic flowers …

our serenity only slightly disturbed

by the occasional car rushing by …

the sound of tires rolling fast …

metal barreling through thick air

rising from summer heat

when corn silk and yellow seedlings …

trees and grass all join in

the dance of life …

thrusting higher and higher

towards the sun …

the same as my neighbors

when they produced seed,

multiplied, then passed on …

leaving  tiny bits of themselves behind

to prove there’s life

after …

*****

in the stillness of winter’s coldest clear night … i’ll rise from within the Earth to

glide on moon’s rays …

the wind my flesh …

the air my breath …

the stars my sight …

the oak tree above …

my haven …

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