I gave my eyes so that a small girl could see
the iridescent blue of a damsel fly’s wings.
I gave my heart to a boy too weak to stand,
who now runs and climbs the rocks above the tarn.
I gave my lungs so that another child could breathe
and fill them with the ocean’s salty wind.
I need no marble headstone, but in a sun warmed clearing,
plant curving bluebells and fluted daffodils
scented blues and vibrant singing yellows
to celebrate my short life each spring.