When I Am Gone

When I am gone, when I am gone, will you then think of me - not this for long drawn hours or days or for eternity …. Nor yet through Winter’s cold decline, nor Springtime’s sweet embrace - not during Summer’s long-spun days to dwell upon my face. But only for a moment’s time, a fleeting memory that passes through the twilight hours - one second just for me. And when I’m gone, yes when I’m gone please then recall my name – not as the raging ocean’s swell or brightly burning flame … But merely as a passing cloud, a softly blowing breeze, or as a distant murmuring - a whisper in the trees. I ask only a moment’s thought, to think of me, then smile – not this for long drawn hours or days but just a little while.