Go there to my favourite place
And see if I have left,
Like some dropped flower
A memory there for you.
I cannot say, what word, or
Smile, slipped through
The fingers of my heart
And fell to the grass.
And there, unbruised
Fold up some knowledge
Like petals gathered together
And safely closed.
The grass is faded now: 
Green crushed to brown,
But there, where I have been
Perhaps the flower remains.

Cathleen Benson