Memorial

Every four or five years at a holiday dinner
the subject comes up about planting a shrub

on the family plot. We put down our forks
and discuss a cedar, or maybe a low juniper,

but we never arrive at a conclusion. Decades
pass and we rarely visit, never check to see

if the headstone is in place, or if the ground
has sunken in a hollow trough; we refuse

to consider death while we live, citing how
we are consumed with life and won’t seek

the living among the dead; agree an evergreen
would be a choice; a hardy plant that lives

through winters. They are signals of things
Time cannot take. They root in desires

where miracles exist, are difficult to kill, easy
to keep and do not remind us of our fears,

knowing what dies leaves a place to grieve
and the shadows of those who grieve there.

Bruce Meyer is author of more than 60 books of poetry, short stories, flash fiction, and non-fiction. His most recent collections of poems are McLuhan's Canary (Guernica, 2020), Grace of Falling Stars (Black Moss, 2021) and forthcoming are Church Grammar (St. Thomas Poetry Series) and One Sweet Moment (Guernica). His poems have won or been shortlisted for numerous international prizes. He lives in Barrie, Ontario.