BY LAWRENCE “MACK” HALL

In the event I hope you’ll mourn for me

And remember those cups of coffee at the Greasy Spoon

Our walks across the fields where rabbits played

Our magic moonlit kisses on frosty nights

In the event I hope you’ll pray for me

Light votive candles and whisper gentle prayers

Slip beads through your fingers with Aves on your lips

Sing Masses of remembrance on our festal days

In the event I know you’ll come to me

Because we were, we are, and we will be