literature

pure

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Literature Text

Lay me in a shallow grave
beneath the maple tree.
The one I carved
with a crooked heart
when we were but two
or three.
Let wind,sun and rain
wash my decaying skin.
Let roots of the maple
sink deep to bone within.
Seeking sustenance from the marrow
of my very soul.
Let the very heart of me
feed our carven tome.
Leave me in a shallow grave
beneath the maple tree.
The one where we had
our first true kiss
when we were sweet sixteens.
Let well-fed worms and busy ants
dispose of all the scraps.
Splintered bones lay nestled
in a twisted ball of root.
In return for a maple's skin
to cut an undying mark for you.
Spread a bed of lilies
over what used to be my grave.
Watch them bloom as years go by
and you wither with old age.
Stare up through the maple's leaves
to see the forever and a day
I carved for you in that tree.
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