hidden away from the adults
as if the small inhabitants
might disturb the sleep of their elders
there are no mausoleums no grand monuments
every thing is smaller here
headstones, plots
the dates are closer together
some just one date
In this corner of Calgary
there are few visitors or flowers
must the pain of remembering
the sense of loss
be greater here
than for those who have had
their three score and ten
In this corner of Calgary
I sit and contemplate
never having had children
never having lost
mourning for the lives
they never got to live
shedding a tear
turning for home
