By Fifi


Do not bury me, for I am afraid

Of wiggly things under the earth

Of weevils, worms, termite queens who

Through deep tunnels drag their swollen way


Do not bury me, for I cannot bear

The cold dews that must seep through

Even the friendly gardener's hose would

Frighten me, let alone the rain


Though in life I have loved the beady eyes

Of the gopher on my walks, or spied

The squirrel in his disappearing act

They are not like me, I know


The soil does not wish them ill, and when

They dig they know their way

Upwards back to light and air, while I

Entombed will not share that certainty.