When we are gone, what would we leave behind?

Few rate a statue cast in bronze

or build a monument to shout their name.

So what do we, the ordinary folk

who toil each day to make the two ends meet,

expect that those we leave behind

will think of us in fleeting memory?

Make sure it isn’t just material things

that fly away like dust upon the wind.

Leave what can only be your own,

the smiles and laughter shared with those we love.

 

 

David Garlick, Victoria, 1987