Make my death a
canticle for peace.
Evil has no greater friend than anger,
Making ready converts to its cause.
On me think but of beauty as you pause,
Remembering the service of a stranger
In giving up his life to purchase yours.
All I ask is that you do your part,
Living in the sunlight of my death,
Dancing till your self-sown furies cease.
As you enjoy the gift of every breath,
Yet mourn for me with morning in your