He Is Gone (The People All Do Say) Poem by david lessard

He is gone...the people all do say,
Shall we bury him today?
'neath the ground, amongst the clay?

Gone? I cannot say that he is gone.
Away? Yes. But not gone.

He was ours for just five years.
Now he's yours. My first born son is yours.

Son, there's a headstone
bearing your name
your date of birth
the date of your death
Birds are engraved there too.
Who knows why.
The body's there,
but not the boy.
The boy is in God's memory
Awaiting a new birth
and of a day when
there will be
no more dying.

They can't bury you...
Until they bury me...
Until they bury your mother,
and your sisters and
your younger brother.
Until the last memory of your face
dies with the last person that remembers.

Gone? No, not gone...Just away.