At a Grave

She lived and died and now I pray for grace
for one remembered here by stone and grass.

I came here with no need to be with her.
Her daughter, my mother, wanted me here

with her. I am. I look into the sun.
I want to walk away and be alone 

with one who sips nectar from my flower,
carries me to his hive, ignites the fire

warming us through the night, and all day long
while I work I am becoming his song.

(17 October 2013)

Copyright 2013 by Floyce Alexander