Like Fish Do

There will be no headstone,
no grave,
where will you go to grieve at sunset?
I want to be there to read your thoughts,
they say we remember things differently.
Will you forget in an ungodly sequence, 
hear me speak in another’s voice?
Will remaining be so arbitrary?
Will you go to a place we went together,
some other quietness that lets you fall gently,
a public square where crowds fester and 
we can be strangers again in unseeing eyes?
Will you come on days like this 
when it rains in dots and dashes 
like the sky has a message to send,
after all I too am now of the water.
Maybe I will leave you a note,
like fish do, stuck on the wetness,
remind you to bring cigarettes and cake,
oh, and daisies.
That August monsoon.
Weren’t they yellow daisies?

Bangalore, Karnataka, India. Rajani Radhakrishnan is from Bangalore, India and blogs at thotpurge.wordpress.com