Let me be buried in the rain In a deep, dripping wood, Under the warm wet breast of Earth Where once a gnarled tree stood. And paint a picture on my tomb With dirt and a piece of bough Of a girl and a boy beneath a round, ripe moon Eating of love with an eager spoon And vowing an eager vow. And do not keep my plot mowed smooth And clean as a spinster's bed, But let the weed, the flower, the tree, Riotous, rampant, wild and free, Grow high above my head. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE USES OF POETRY by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS HOHENLINDEN by THOMAS CAMPBELL THIRD BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 26. FIRST LOVE by THOMAS CAMPION SPRING [IN WAR-TIME] by HENRY TIMROD THE FLIGHT OF THE WAR-EAGLE by OBADIAH CYRUS AURINGER COMFORT IN AFFLICTION by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN ELLEN BRINE OV ALLENBURN by WILLIAM BARNES |