An Untitled Poem For Olivia

Your birthday has come and your birthday has gone.
I made you a rose and I wrote you a song.
You probably hate me for not visiting.
I wanted to go but I just wouldn't sing
not one note to that rock that sits on the ground-
not one word to your corpse that is so far down.

The stars were your candles that God lit for you,
but you made no wishes so nothing came true.
You could have come back if you'd just blown them out.
I know that you didn't since you're not around.
You've found a new home that you don't want to leave.
You want to stay there; you don't want to see me.

I looked to the sky and I saw that the moon
refused to turn into a birthday balloon.
It was just a crescent, so small and so thin
because it was hidden by clouds that rolled in.
But maybe from heaven you saw the whole thing.
That's certainly what I would like to believe.

I went for a walk and I noticed that leaves
are carried by wind after falling from trees.
When you fell, was there any wind there at all?
I doubt it because nothing cushioned your fall.
But now that you're gone, it should really start up
and carry you quickly so you'll be with us.

I miss you, my darling. I miss you, my love.
Are you happy now that you're way up above?
I hope you're at peace now. I hope you have fun
still singing and dancing and going for runs.
I need you to make sure that this wish comes true:
You will be my angel until I fall, too.