Nothing much, I hear her say
and feel her smile at the
funeral home's metal grave marker
still there one year later.

Just the way she would have wanted it,
modest,
quiet,
next to her son,
a humble life of huge faith
marked simply and with dignity.

Harvest flowers and a scarecrow
still bright into the Spring,
drying stems of flowers
left long ago and one
empty-handed friend who came
just to remember.