(a fragment)

When I die, daughter, scatter my ashes along
The old stagecoach road where it breaks out of the pines
And runs down into the reservoir, if that's still there.
It's where I stopped my horse to drink and looked across
To where the road came up again on the other side.

Cheryl L. Higgins's Questions:

Editor's note: the above is a fragment from a much longer piece the author submitted for the "End of the Century" writing assignment. In our view, it can stand alone as a mother's final wish to her daughter. Should you care to read the entire poem, please contact the author. Otherwise, do you feel this fragment can stand on its own merits?