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Lisa Bozikovic
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No Monument
There's no grave marked with your name
No monument that stands the same
Through all the wind, and all the rain
There's no such solid plane
And i don't go there to sit and be still
To be still and think of you
In some parlour room, with rows upon rows
Of photographs far away from
The differing light
But when i stretch my arms to the day
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You come to me on the back of a wave
And when i smile at some simple truth
All through my cheeks spreads the warmth of you
And when the birds rise and fall in the sky
There you are fluttering in my eyes
And when i hear these simple tunes
Why i sing them right back to you
All through the differing light
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