I'd rather remember
only the colorful blossoms
surrounding the departed.
I'd rather remember
their characters & scent
and not some waxen faces
straight out of the mold.
I'd rather remember
the crimsons & the yellows
and the whites & the pinks.
I'd rather forget
the thorns & pricks & angst
& contradictions
of existence.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem