When I die
You shall set me free
For I would like to be clover.
Deep-rooted clover with a few lucky leaves
And small white flowers
That pop up overnight
In the freshly mowed lawn.
And after that
I will be a rabbit —
Perhaps even more than one,
Watching carefully from the edge of the lawn
Ready to dash under our toolshed
If you get too close.
And after that
I will pick up speed
With an owl’s wings
And the toenails of a running fox.
I’ll see the world at a faster pace
And enjoy it for a while.
And after that
I’ll be so many things —
A holly tree with shiny leaves,
Some peepers in the vernal pool,
The crows that gather to converse.
So you can find me everywhere
In all the things I loved so well.
And after that,
Perhaps a day quite close to now,
At least as measured by the stars,
We will meet again in clover.
Willow Shire lives in Eastham.
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