by Ute Carson
The Voices Project," 12/23/13

Amidst life's clamor
I cannot imagine the silence
that will one day surround me.
I will not hear the footfalls above me
nor feel the rain weeping on my grave.
I will not be able to thank a grandson
for bringing me flowers
or wipe away a granddaughter's tears
as she kisses the stone face
on which my name is engraved.

But within earshot of my lover
I fervently hope
that my whispers will meet his
through the roots and tendrils
of porous earth
and we will gurgle and murmur
like two underground streams
which know nothing of endings.

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