NewPoetry

Paul Robichaud

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So often in life we take for granted
that those stories handed down to us
are true, that mother really did teach
Sunday school before she married,
that father’s career was a steady progress
of hard work and recognition,
that your great-grandparents never once
regretted sailing from the old country.
That the bills were always paid on time.
Now think of all the things that go
without saying. Of course there are
no bodies concealed in the garden;
your grandparents truly loved each other.
And somewhere in northern Ontario
your favourite dog is still playing fetch
with a stick thrown by a kindly farmer
who only wants more dogs to love.

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