One tear is what I ask of you—
one tear from you for me…
And when that tear is on your cheek,
I’ll fill your memory.
I’m smiling there, inside your heart,
I’m waiting there for you,
Not in ambush, but to hear:
I hope your words are true.
I’ll leave you with my poetry
that speaks to you in rhyme.
You’ll hear me, if you listen close,
as you repeat each line.
I, knowing that I could not stay,
wrote all the love I knew.
Think of something dear to you—
one thing that speaks of we—
And when it comes into your mind,
please, please remember me….
A Hill resident, the author believes that the appreciation of art should not be influenced by the vagaries or prejudices of biography.