This morning I read about
Mass graves discovered
On school grounds
In an institution that
Operated till I was 15
I register the accomplishment
The stand of those
Unwilling to let silence win
I celebrate the truth revealed
No matter how painful
Knowing that wounds need
Cleaning to heal
The earth held their bodies
Warmed their souls
Till they could rise again
Lives stolen
In the name of God
Is it any wonder our
Churches are empty
Reminding me of the time
My mother brought two boys
From Mount Cashel home for
Christmas Dinner
Outside my memory
A present for me to ponder
Two brothers
Who hated to return
Haunted looks in their eyes
If she was alive today
She would be put in prison
Spoken while peering in through the glass
Painful memories from time long ago
I have been there too
wounds of separation
mother in hospital
father elsewhere
Straw house
I am sure they meant well
Following the rules
My sister not allowed to sleep
In the same room with me
Yet she was six and afraid
These stories
These bubbling up
Only live when we let them
Even then they disappear
Unless caught
Monarchs travel a long way
Words do the same
Louis Riel my hero
As a 14-year old boy
In Ottawa school
While at the same time
All across our land
The rivers still ran red
I bow in honor
As my heart breaks
May 31, 2021
Gordon Martin
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