And then came Spring...

By Alys Faiz

I will sing of you laterwhen the trend of a thousand feetthe unending roll of sorrowthe breath of roses enfoldingthe eulogies, the warranted praisethe drawn-out memories of othersthe grief of recalling,the total acceptance of deathare over.

Then I will singnot to tread ofa thousand feet, nor to theroll of sorrowNor will I lift the rosesnot echo praisenor recall, nor accept.My song neither begins nor ends.It is eternity.(at his death)