Unnecessary Epitaph

I slept late, for no apparent reason;
the day moved on without me
moving in it.  And I thought

how like death, this obscure
absence... even to those
who haven't really vanished.

As for my psuedo-missing presence
dreaming in its linen sheets, there were
no sorrows, lamentations, tearful prayers
nor funeral or ashes spread; instead

the sweetest yellow daffodils
that often line the altar of a final
sleeper's bed were still outside-

growing in my garden.

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