After You Died, a poem by Heather Cameron at
Daniel Stone

After You Died

After You Died

written by: Heather Cameron


Some person who knows trees
Built this uneven path to wind
Its way through the stand of firs.
Just when my thoughts were on
That bleak straight of assuming
This is what life does to you.

The visiting minister spoke of
A bend in the road as an
Invitation to let go,
To trust the road map
To some god on intimate terms
With absence.

You said you knew
What you were doing,
Where you were going.
I wanted to shout,
Why do you always get to choose?
Wasted protest, given
The white flag in your hands.

The patient navigator asked
If I knew how I might forgive you,
No mention of god, thank god.
These firs whisper something in
Their wind-shifting language.
I listen, hoping to hear.
Forgetting, you’re not here.

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