Some quiet day, perhaps, when I am dead,
And this loud world is but a whispered echo
Through the dark, cool earth that spreads above my head,
I shall forget that I have ever known you.
Your kisses shall become inconsequent
As flowers and grass that grow above my grave,
Our moments shared shall crumble down to dust,
The ring upon my finger turn to rust,
There shall be nothing to remind me, then,
I shall know peace, unstirred by pain or song.
Turning my face to sleep, as children do,
Never to start awake and cry your name,
Seeking your arms to shelter me from fear
As I do now... this night... my very Dear!
Mona Gould
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/some-quiet-day-perhaps/
