POEM: I Did Not Die

ROLL Reunion


Do not stand at my grave and weep:
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the gentle autumn's rain.

When you awaken in the mornings hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush of,
quiet birds' circled flight.
I am the soft stars
that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry:
I am not there. I did not die.

Mary Frye

   ROLL Reunion

"The German is like a willow.
No matter which way you bend him,
he will always take root again."
- Alexander Solzhenitsyn -

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