Do not bury me alone, only with me
For lone is not how I wish to be.
If bury you must, then I think you’ll see
I’d be so content under a cottonwood tree.
She sings so soft in her springtime song
The faintest rustle will make you long
For the summertime and her symphony sweet
The leaves frantically dancing as they twirl and leap.
Then autumn comes to begin her rest
The leaves like diamonds begin the test
To hold to fall? To end the song
Oh can’t you see, it’s where I belong.
So if bury you must, then I think you’ll see
I’d be so content under a Cottonwood Tree.
By Katie Mills