When I die, Don’t cover my grave with stones or epitaph.

Let me feel the seasons on my skin.

Don’t tend it everyday—let life take over.

Let weeds grow—wildflowers of every colour,

So, you’d think of me in death as in life–

A splash of wild colour in a bleak world.

.

When I die, Don’t bring fresh flowers everyday.

I won’t meet you, anyway.

I’ll be somewhere sitting in a sunny nook,

Thinking of a lost song or an old book.

.

So, you, too, better move on—let life take over.