Of what purpose to maintain an illusion regarding the fate of a season?

Impermanence is our essence;
to fade is our fate.

But, alas, tradition is totem is tranquility, I understand
so if I must be memorialized…
Something simple will suffice.

A sculpture?
Well, that doesn’t seem too simple.
But, then again, there is artistic value for the living.

Of what, though? Of me?
I suppose that makes sense.

But, mark my wishes here—size is not important.

Although, larger-than-life has a certain delicious irony to it.

But—any old stone will do.

You say marble?
It is classic, you are right.

But, get this down—Italian or non-Italian, I’m not picky.

And you know, just throw it up anywhere.

I mean, maybe with a view, for the sake of the living visitors.
Of the ocean.
Or the mountains,
Or the National Mall.
Maybe just on the National Mall.
I mean, if there’s space. Don’t go to too much trouble.

A bench?
Well, it would be nice for the living people to have a space to rest.

Or, to save space, maybe just kneeling blocks at my feet?
And below them, underground speakers playing the sounds of crying children.
To match the ambiance, you know.
Bose speakers, if possible.
Compact. Modest. Efficient.

And perhaps an old Baltic woman selling single white roses.
With like, the handkerchief thing on her head.
Maybe a folding chair for her.

And we’ll probably want some sort of housing for a hawk.
To keep pigeons away.

But—make the hawk’s housing minimal.
Let’s not get gauche.
Something simple will suffice.