A Poem For When I Am Gone

Do not cry for me, for I am gone. When my ashes are brought home don’t place them on a mantel between the tacky Hummel figurines. No, tip them out onto the backyard but be sure the wind is not blowing into our neighbors open window, that would not be cool. I am not coming back so check the wind once more, or I might blow into the house again and the dust-buster will clog up. Do not look for me in the sky, I am not there, nor on or under the earth - please really? I may appear to you at night if you lay with another man, haunt you to your grave if you marry again, but that’s just me and my insecurities. I am what ash becomes when sifted through the harps of heavenly angels:- I am a song in your heart, the sparkle in your eyes, the light beneath your smile your shelter in any storm. Also, I’ve the power to trigger the cat to pee in your bed if you neglect to dust the photograph of my grinning mug.