Saturday, May 28, 2016

Memorial Day

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 wake 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.

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