by Regina Kandraska

Don't cry for me...
I've met my destiny
and found solace in the soil that covers me.
But look beyond my grave
and gather the guns and bullets and grenades
and forge them into wheels
that spin in windmills, bicycles and trains.
Look into children's eyes
and hold their little hands and promise me -
You will not ask the same of them...
That you will build a monument, stone by stone,
covered with the moss of memory of war and death -
and breathe into it a life-affirming energy...
in memory of me.

Copyright © 2009 - Regina Kandraska
Published: 5/14/09   ·  Author's Page   ·  Next Poem