Rip My Sweet Dog
A Poem for Grief
Do not stand at your grave and weep tears
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a million winds that blow,
I am the sparkle on snow.
When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the uplifting rush
of serene birds in swirled flight.
I am that shine at night.
Do not stand at your grave and cry,
I am not there, you did not die...
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