Page:I, Mary MacLane (1917).pdf/169

 the clouds and the winds and the suns and moons, and the days and nights and circling horizons—those above my grave.

And my Body laid at its length, eyes closed, hands folded, down there Resting: my Soul not yet gone but laid beside my Body in the coffin Resting.

—might we lie like that—Resting, Resting, for weeks, months, ages—

Year after long year, Resting.