Emma Yasmin

Emma Yasmin

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Emma Yasmin
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My class used to visit the cemetery at my school growing up and we would do grave rubbings for art class....I remember there was a teenage girl who had died and this poem was on her tomb....it always made me so sad.

Poem text Do not stand at my grave and weep. I am not there; I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn rain