I Should Like to be Buried in a Summer Forest
I should like to be buried in a summer forest where people go in July, only a bus ride from the city,
I should like them to walk over me not noticing anything but sunlight and patches of wild strawberries –
Here! Look under the leaves! I should like the child who is slowest to end up picking the most,
and the big kids will show the little the only way to grasp a nettle and pick it so it doesn’t sting.
I should like home-time to come so late the bus has its lights on and a cloud of moths hangs in their beam,
and when they are all gone I should like to be buried in a summer forest where the dark steps blindfold, on cat foot-pads, with the dawn almost touching it.
Helen Dunmore (1952-)
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