For Tim
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 of snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn's rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplighting 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.
Author Unknown


In memory of our dear friend, Timothy Taylor, who went to the Light, September 13th, 1999.
I miss you Plimoth!

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