Do not stand at my grave and weep:

I am not there, I do not sleep.

Now on my Harley in the evening glow,

I am that sound of a thousand winds that blow;

My chrome is the diamond glints on snow;

My headlight the sunlight on ripened grain;

I am riding just ahead of the gentle autumn rain.

When you wake in the morning hush,

In the distance I am the swift, uplifting rush of quiet birds in circled flight;

And as I ride on across the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry:

I am not there. I did not die.

I am now riding with Henchmen in the sky.

William "MAC" McGuiness, Sr

HMCL

September 26, 1946 - March 31, 2006