The Latin phrase, in memoriam which we commonly use to announce or honour someone who has died, literally means ‘into memory’.  It’s a curious phrase isn’t it — an acknowledgement of a shift that nothing new or forthcoming is to be expected, all that remains are memories.

I was made aware of the death of an acquaintance this morning.  I will not say that I knew her well; our paths ran casually parallel for a few years.  But maybe because I did not know she was ill and had no memory of her being ill, the information has been more rattling.  Then on my walk this morning I came upon this Robin egg — lost suddenly also.  It seems death is a little outspoken this morning.

However, the final word is never death, in memory, in memoriam the final word is life: laughter, pain, confusion and joy shared together.  When I saw this broken egg, knowing it was a Robin egg I thought less about whatever tragedy of nature had occurred and more about the Robin I had just seen flying — already practicing I suppose, releasing it into memory.

in memoriam

a poem

is complete

too soon; I tried

to incubate another stanza

but everything fell, emptying into

one word

© 2016 – Laurel Archer