a grave matter


when my time comes to join the shades
let me not be ashes on the water
see that I am buried in a grave
sharing the earth with my lover

there’ll be no news down there
nothing novel to talk about
but memories perhaps survive somewhere
and might pass between us somehow

then the mundane will become momentous
we’ll talk of what we have left above
cumquat jam computers grandmas’ tea sets
the house the garden the times we loved

and if our grave has a name
or even I suppose a number
for a short time some visitors will come
to dwell a while on what they remember