It’s a small request, but one that suits me.
The Dogwood. Graceful, poised with her perfect blossoms and statuesque build.
She sneaks in behind the eager daffodils, an ACT 2 harbinger to spring.
Magically she arrives on stage, like a ready dancer, her arms held so perfectly poised.
Sturdy is this beauty, independent and strong with her trunk and muscled arms.
So bury me there so I might enjoy her brief blossom, so much like life.
We arrive, tarry awhile yet depart really quite quickly,
This pretty Dogwood, her stay is not so different,
Her return each year like our own journeying from one lifetime to the next,
As we meet the people we’re meant to meet upon our path,
Bury me there, my ashes and a favored trinket or two.
And if my dogs should live beyond my years.
You might bury them there as well.
It’s fitting, Dogwood and all!
BB Webb