WHERE I’M NOT
Do not stand by my grave and weep. I am not there. I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am a diamond glint on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awake in the morning hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circling flight I am the soft starshine at night Do not stand by my grave and cry I am not there . . . I did not die. Anonymous Both poems
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