Coda

I'd plant you as dandelion seeds if I could
weeds were always beautiful to me

raising themselves, willful, from
this crass earth.

grow,

          regardless of when I leave you.

I cannot stem your fear forever—
time will never be your certainty

dandelions grow,
ignorant to our constructed
tomorrows and yesterdays

see their petals,
how gladly they catch the

                                light—

I'll solemnly plant you beside them

and a woman
who has never learned a prayer
   will whisper your name into the earth
                   
                   as though she always knew.