Time, a poem.

Time

 

I watch the last winter Junkos

gather at the feeder my son filled before he left.

Soon they will fly north for summer.

On the new house construction behind us

the roofers walk the hips and ridges

without safety ropes, nail-gunning shingles

without incident. When the roof was white with frost

they tied themselves down, just to be sure.

I might have done the same, tied him

to me with advice or questions, my preference

for his BB gun, his childhood. But it was well

past time for Spring, and I imagine

he already sensed the enticing green

fatigue of 05:00 hours, heard new voices

promise vital things. My voice

like friendly fire, something

best kept in the back of his mind.

 

LAE2017

Sunday Soliloquy

“That’s not true. Young women need the Prom. It’s a rite of passage as sacred as getting your driver’s license or buying your first bra. There are only a few things in life that are guaranteed to be glorious and memorable and sparkling with gowns and cummerbunds. Prom is the quintessential teenage experience. Think of the unlucky grown-ups and the elderly who lament the day they decided not to go to the Prom. It is a key ingredient to a happy and meaningful life. Prom is short for Promenade, a slow, gentle walk through a shady glen, and this beloved ceremony symbolizes our journey from the shadows of adolescence to the bright sunshine of the adult world with all its freedoms. And it may be the only chance I’ll ever have to dance with a boy. Maybe I’ll never have someone get down on their knee and offer me a diamond ring. Maybe I’ll never walk down the aisle with a smug look of bridal triumph. But it is my right, and the right of every plain, frumpy, book-wormish, soon-to-be librarian, to have one night of Cinderella magic. Even if we have to go with our cousin, or our gay best friend from tap class, we will have a Prom.”

From a play called “Promedy”, delivered by a bookish 17 year old, Beatrix.

Poetry Friday018

In the spirit of celebration for what has taken place in my life as a poet most recently, today’s poetry posting is a link to the publication of one of my poems, “Scotch Mints” in Lake – Journal of Arts and Environment. It’s an honour to be recognized by UBCO, and I’m thrilled to be included in their excellent publication.