Bury Me Standing
We’re all dead. We’re all lying in the clover,
black-eyed with regrets and ‘tectonic grievances’.
We’re all turning the colour of time,
each breath a century, each heartbeat a lifetime long.
We’re all tunneling towards an imperceptible something.
Where we’ll find under the earth urns and raw uranium.
Under the ground run motherlodes and the spunk of glaciers.
Down in the pits, the earthen bowels, the mythical hollows,
we’re all dog-dead and petition resurrection.
In the house of mosses we lie. In the ruins of our era.
Bruce McRae, a Canadian musician currently residing on Salt Spring Island BC, is a multiple
Pushcart nominee with over 1,500 poemspublished internationally in magazines such as
Poetry, Rattle, and the North American Review. His books are ‘The So-Called Sonnets
(Silenced Press); ‘An Unbecoming Fit Of Frenzy; (Cawing Crow Press), ‘Like As If”
(Pski’s Porch), and Hearsay (The Poet’s Haven).
