Places

Wherever we go they are with us.

  Always they are where we were

  where we are now

  where we're going to

  and even where we'll never be.

  With time, some acquire an importance,

  patina or emanation they did not have

  when first visited.

  Where I stood in a driveway

  watching my father inspect the car

  after my mother's traffic accident.

  Where I toddled across a lawn

  to the low hedge where

  my butterfly alights.

  Where I sat with my father

  in a cavernous movie theater

  watching a man cross above Niagara.

  Where I knelt in a pew

  for the Christmas Eve Mass

  as the lights went off at midnight.

  However, many places we visit

  there is always somewhere, out of sight,

  a grave that waits patiently

  throughout a life, however long,

  for its mute, inglorious occupant.