Perennials
by Brittany Gusho
Staring out the window at ancient stones
with their dates forgotten and faded
With their names
Forgotten names of forgotten faces
rubbed out by time
covered in ivy irony
The window to a world much larger than my own
Sprinkled with people
I will never see and never meet
People who knew people
People who loved people
Left untouched, unvisited
Here, there are no garlands
No wreaths or planted perennials
No spouse will come cry at this stone
No grandchild will remember to visit once a year
Walking through the still life,
I remember the perennials I planted
The empty plots
suddenly marked
suddenly more than land
Suddenly a place where I can go
A place I promise to visit as often as I can
I promise him I will go
I tell myself the same
I go once to plant perennials
to go in my stead