She's back where she's always
 wated to be - 
 at my father's side.

From a distance I can hardly tell  -
 40 squares of sod have been
 carefully replaced.

I lay wild strawberries
 near her head.
 Smell them, Ma, they smell as sweet
 as they will taste.
 You picked thousands of them.

I know her hand has already reached
 through the quilting,
 the wood, the concrete
 and two feet of dirt,

 on through more concrete,
 wood and quilting,
 feeling for his hand laid across his ribs,
 letting him know
 she's been miserable and waiting
 for 13 years
 to take his hand and that 
 she'll never let go of it again.

Trudy Chambers Price