This was written by one of my older daughters Cat) for my youngest daughter (Kayla) for her funeral. She was hit by a pickup truck while riding her bike (10 years old). The driver was texting. Cat managed to sing it at the funeral (with difficulty). I have never been able to sing it. It has been 13 years.

For Kayla

2/4/97--3/11/07
By Cat
I won't buy flowers
to place at your head
I'll meander to your grave
pick wild ones instead.
Blooms of bright hues
tangled stems and leaves
rock roses, lantana
and African daisies.

You were no poised
composed bouquet.
You were the scatter
of springtime at play.
You were thunderheads
in a blue summer sky
with a deep purple rage
that would wring you dry.

Your own scattered petals
you gather with wind,
mix them with dust
pirouette in the sand.
The rocks will never know
your footsteps again
but you dance on wind,
kick up cyclones of sand.
You dance on wind,
kick up cyclones of sand Kayla,

You

dance

on wind.