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Weeping Heart
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I Walk Naked Into a Cloud
I found your grave today.
It was near the path under
a weeping willow.
I do not know who planted
that tree. It shades your
resting place like
a natural umbrella.
Your tombstone features
a picture of you,
smiling in your bridal dress.
I remember that day
so vividly. I wonder if
you can still
remember it too?
I sat at the foot of your grave.
Smoked a cigarette.
Focused on every
memory I still
held of you.
I am somewhat surprised
at how long ago
you were alive.
Has it really been
over 20 years
since the day
I watched them
bury you here?
I am not a grave
visitor by nature.
This day was an exception.
I found your grave today.
The seeds your mother planted
have grown into
perpetual flowers.
The weeping willow
is an impressive
symbol
of the weeping heart
that buried you
Brilliant! Brilliant!
Brilliant! Brilliant! Brilliant!
Vive le Quebec libre!