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This post is in memory of a dear longstanding friend, Chris Goddard, who died recently. It was inspired by the poem read by a work colleague of his at the funeral, Do Not Stand at my Grave and Weep, written in the 1930s by Mary Frye:

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.

When you awaken in the morning’s hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there; I did not die.

Our group of friends had many birthday visits to Kew Gardens. I thought of Chris when I went this week and saw this year’s new growth emerging.

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