White Glass

How shall you think of me when I am gone?
How shall you?
In summer, a robin's egg may be less blue.
In spring, I may be green.

How will you remember me?
A ruined violet, a corsage, a bouquet?
A plant whose tattered leaves turned gray?

No medicinal flowers! Drain the dark water!
They clash with life.
They murmur like a pestilent chorus.
No dirge, no elegy! A descending harmony
does not have far to go.
How far does death go?
I do not know, I do not know.

When you remember me, think of me as I am.
Paint me in the late light of a late season.
When the crops have turned to stubble, picture me.
The Earth that keeps you, keeps me.
There is no sunken sea.

You lazy gods, look down.
See the radiance.
See the ice.
Our crystalline dream burns bright.

How shall you think of me when I am gone?
It will not be far. It will not be long.
I have seen myself in winter's white glass.
I have seen myself in summer.
I have seen myself in the grass.

How far does death go?
I do not know, I do not know.