We shall remember you, the world and I,
And write your name across the evening sky.
The world shall write in sunsets, I in stars,
The world shall write you whole, and I in parts,
Because the sky cannot hold all my heart.
The world may then forget you. I will not.
The world forgets what’s written. Only what
is loved is remembered. Only what is loved.
The old high way and all, that I strove
Et cetera. Where is the proof?
The stars behind the sunsets still are there,
Even though you may not be aware.