I was the first drop
to fall upon her grave,
then the others came
and soon I was forgotten.

A puddle formed;
birds bathed and drank;
I rose upon a feather,
rolled off to seek
the stone again.

No farewell did I suffice,
or grief to end
for those who stopped
to read her name.

They asked for sun,
I gave them pain,
while beneath the stone
she listened.

They asked for sun,
a prayer in vain,
from those who sought
her blessing.

By silence deafened,
they turned away.

She thanked me then
amid a dream
of hollow footsteps.

July 2, 2006

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