When I Die

Do not bury me when I am gone.
Scatter my ashes where things grow.
Flowers. Fruit. Trees.
Schoolyards. Graveyards. Churchyards.

Let what is left grow one more thing,
one more time,
and no matter the faith of passers-by in my world,
I will be in heaven.

About this poem

I am not anticipating an early exit from this life, but I do know how I want to be remembered after I am gone.

The picture was taken in my front yard.

Tom