Poem – Where Archie Died

Where Archie Died

Every workday morning,
I pass the place where Archie died.
I say a short prayer and bow my head.
And a short prayer it is
as I am standing on the bus,
that whizzes through
this intersection of the city,
this brief crossroad of lives
and I prepare to disembark
into my daily work.

And is it any longer the same "place"
where he died?
It’s not the same building in which
he spoke his last word,
kissed his last kiss,
breathed his last breath,
wrote his last line of poetry.

No, that was torn down half a century ago.
Now it’s a CS Alterna building
on Slater and Bay
with an Ottawa heritage plaque
slapped on the wall.

His last living space
was torn down,
renovated again
but the plaque still remains,
remains to remind us
of where he last lived.

His body is planted at Beechwood
and draws a crowd of fans
every season
to gather,
to remember
his short, beautiful life
and read from his
poetry, his art, his work,
his work that will
live on,
live on
in our hearts.

In memory of Archibald Lampman, Poet / Civil Servant
TAJ March 2007

More about Lampman’s poetry: here


About shewrite63

I am Theresa. I am a Mother and intermittent writer. I published a bittersweet novel under the pen name of Florence T Lyon. I am also a real life survivor, cynic and IT support worker trying to keep up with technological changes. Can't eke a living off of my writing skills - yet!
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