Florence Greene 6/27/1917 ~~ 2/22/2015

Mother, Social Worker, Opera Singer, World Traveller, Gardener, Humanitarian, lover and protector of all animals...............

Good by Mom, journey home.  I will miss you.





Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. 

I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. 

I did not die. 

 Mary Elizabeth Frye

Girl and Horse, 1928

You are younger than I am, you are

Someone I never knew, you stand

Under a tree, your face half-shadowed,

Holding the horse by its bridle.

Why do you smile?  Can’t you

See the apple blossoms falling around

You, snow, sun, snow,

listen, the tree dries

and is being burnt,  the wind

Is bending your body, your face

Ripples like water

Where did you go

But no, you stand there exactly

The same, you can’t hear me, forty

Years ago you were caught by light

And fixed in that secret

Place where we live, where we believe

Nothing can change, grow older.

(On the other side

of the picture, the instant

is over, the shadow

of the tree has moved.  You wave,

then turn and ride

out of sight through the vanished

orchard, still smiling

as though you do not notice)

Margaret Atwood