The Rose
Please notify my next of kin
When I’m about to be buried
In the solid clay, so that they
Can sing hymns over my body
And prepare me for the afterlife.
Hew the rocks with metal chisels;
Open the earth; reveal its secrets.
There you shall find a man still-born.
Or is he just asleep in the clay
Waiting to be reborn, refreshed?
Let there be a garden path
Leading up to the spot where I lay.
Line this path with flowers –
Let the lovely posies remind
Onlookers that once I looked on you.
Let there be among the bright blooms
One solitary, scarlet rose.
Let it signify all great things,
From the bad queen’s red-hot slippers
To the innocent’s beating heart;
But let it signify foremost
The love I feel. Although it’s soured,
Others will remember how sweet
It was while you let it live,
And they will smile at me and cry.
Fold over the earth; shut the gate;
And remind people of my name.
It was a good name while I lived,
And I hope your pert lips recount
The good times we had as close friends.
- Brenden C. Burchill
