An Evening

A translation of a poem my father wrote in Low German for his parents, circa 1972.

Do you recall, dear Helen, when we sat in our yard last September
In the darkening evening, with shade of deep green?
How the night violets emitted a fragrant sheen,
It was an interlude above all others to be remembered

The nightingale was singing her soothing evening song,
as we sat hand in hand and simply listened;
Life was laughing around us, and our hearts glistened,
Scenting the blooming flowers in the place where we belong.

Come sweet, let us once again give each other our hands,
And quietly consider what life has brought us to
Now that Autumn has descended like a curtain:

For us, I think of our simple golden wedding bands:
They have endured, as we remain together, this last while too,
And our encircling love, will ever be sure and certain.

Arvo Part

scraggy grey beard
tan suit jacket
no tie
he sits in your sunroom
squinting brightness

his voice barely a whisper
hands quiet in his lap
you strain to hear every word
like pearls on a necklace
each one the same round perfection
but unique

opaque beauty
firm
true
created in struggle
around a grain
of pain

and a scraggy love emerges

Baptism

head bowed kneeling
hand gently laid
words softly spoken
water carefully poured
hands clasped raising up
white towel laid over shoulders
hugs lovingly bestowed
firm faith fiercely shared
----------across the ages

Hurricane (9:30 AM August 27 2011)

swirling vortex of turmoil
approaches
blowing gales of wind and water
lashing shorelines
waves wash over barriers
like a giant hand clearing a table

cities brace for impact
as I watch preparation
for Jack’s funeral

a hurricane of emotions
shakes our foundations
surges through our cynical
defenses

waiting for a giant hand of
comfort and healing
to alight
featherlike
on our battered souls

Storm (a poem for Michael)

tan shaggy-haired sheltie
comes barking to greet you
tail wagging nervous
you’re someone new

pointed nose sniffs clothes
you lower your hand to pet
fingers buried in mass of fur
man and dog well-met

master calls and he obeys
heading out for a break
chasing birds in backyard
hope has no give or take

you kneel to play some more
asking for a perfect paw
rolls over on his back
trusting tummy rub law

new potatoes

round thin-skinned wonders
some cracked open by boiling
sweet summer savour

Chick Corea

walking quickly in bright streets
he’s impatient
curly hair ruffling wind
glasses flashing sun
can’t wait to get there
to show you all his stuff

but along the way he’s taking
unexpected detours
back lanes
quick corners
and he’s pointing out
wonders
graffiti and architecture
children playing in red and white
striped shirts
a perfect reflection of a cloud in a window

but he doesn’t slow down
infectious excitement
and you marvel
catching it

Poem for Jack Layton (1950-2011)

yesterday
a carved wooden cane called cancer
----------came out of nowhere and
--------------------whacked us in the solar plexus

but when Jack carried it he used it like a
sceptre
magically inspiring the different strands to tie together

reaching out and hooking us in
poking prodding the soft underside of
apathy

pointing out a better way down
a clearer road

helping us walk that road
even with our broken hips

yesterday
a gentle wooden cane
---------fell out of nowhere
-----------------at our feet

waiting for us to pick it up

Wedding Poem #3 - Nick and Chantelle

grains of coloured sand
poured out
into glass vase – your life together
time
not one alike
pieces of yourselves

petals dropped
songs sung
vows taken
papers signed
all with wide smiles
--------like moonbeams glowing

now the outpouring
and mixing
taking turns

and yet each grain retains its own
colour character
giving beauty to the
mosaic of marriage

Wedding Poem #2 - Jen and Doug

shimmering water glints sunlight behind flowered archway as
two hold hands and become one
this lake
where hundreds of makeshift boats were built
waiting for spring
to reach dreams of gold

here now
an exchange of gold rings
and dreams of a life in Dawson

and we follow along
walking the red carpet
blowing bubbles of brightness in the hot sun

and we dance the dance of dreams
our hearts shimmering
with the endless daylight of the north

Wedding Poem #1 - Jarryde and Nancy

mountain magic marriage
drizzle descends as groom and bride enter shelter with parents
a wistful letting go

rain patters roof during vows
but we hear the love and commitment
shining through tears and stumbles

rain stops in time for exit
and sun shines on merry mountain
as we grip hands and throw rose petals of pink wishes

chilly evening descends as glasses raise in tribute
but bodies warm to the dance
into the mystic magic mountain of life

27 Years

I Can Hear the Bells from Hairspray is going through my head as
I marvel about 27 years and I see the Queen and 90-year-old
Prince Philip on the cover of Hello Canada out the window
the sun shines in a sky with woolly clouds but it’s still
chilly because last night it stormed torrents of rain
and hail in some places and I know I want
another 27 years of hearing the bells
to face the sun and rain and hail
and snow and droughts and
floods and cold and heat
together

Satie

as you pour his tea he sits at the edge of blue leather sofa
as far away as possible
he adds some honey ------stirs slowly teaspoon flashing in the light
picks up cup and saucer with slow steady hands

he’s staring into the tea
when he begins to relate
in carefully chosen words
the intricate pattern of veins on a leaf
how a bee collects pollen from a flower
the play of light and shadow of sun through shutters
the way a cloud moves across the sky
changing shapes

the way a heart can break and never be the same

he puts down the tea with a slight clink on the tray
and is silent
and you are left with a slow sustained sweet sadness
warming

an afternoon in mid-august

prairie wind pushes blanket air brushing skin
green leaves wave hello to blue blue sky
brown grass struggles to survive in unrelenting heat
bright sun bakes bare pavement
white moths flutter in the shadows
bikes shout past on pathway to summer freedom
colours serene surrounding house
tomatoes redden-ripen in watered garden
dried leaves litter ground with hints of autumn

learning to freeze-frame these shining moments

pellet gun

leans in the corner of the garage
hard ---------unyielding
like a stone in your sandal
brown wooden varnish
black narrow barrel
I see it and my mind synapses back to backyard
of adolescence
shooting rusty cans
the mild kick in the shoulder
walking into garden
hand off the trigger
barrel pointed downwards
bird in branch above presents
a live target
taking aim through vee sight
trigger squeeze of death
robin falls to ground
picking it up
blood on my hands
red breast still
gun lying on black ground

Nina

she stands in gravel driveway
patterned skirt flapping in wind
arms crossed ----head bowed

and you go out to join her
there’s a sadness in her posture
but also an insistence
like she can’t wait for you to catch up to her mind storm
which always tornadoes two or more worlds

worlds of
------slavery
-----------refinement
--------------------faith
------------------------courage
------------------------------illness
-----------------------------------truth and lies
and the only way to bring those worlds together is to
pay attention!

dry

cracks crevice brown lawn
blades prickle bare feet walking
waiting wet relief

Harry

lying on gravel shoulder dark blood staining ground our ditch a green
background lifeless body to be buried in the back garden once so full
of life now still my throat constricting tasting death at 12 recalling the
puppy with one ear flopped over he sat with hind legs awkwardly splayed
to one side part shepherd part boxer with black bristly fur white ruff on
neck he would follow dad’s brown dodge to school and stay there all day
until he followed it home in the afternoon protecting our yard from all
danger darting after cars going by

a quick turn of the wheels was all it took

Ode to J. G. Tamino

you play your little flute
delicate little lips
blowing steady stream of sweet breath

high notes travel across continents
drawing us close
to hear the clear new music

as you make your quest
and we accompany
playing the chimes to your pipe

and you give us wings of hope
as we see your perfect blue eyes
and hear your song

German Translation

Ode an J. G. Tamino


Du spielst deine kleine Flöte
aus zarten Lippen
linder Strom jungen Atems

Ihr heller Klang durchtönt die Kontinente
nah führt sie uns zusammen
zu lauschen neu geborener Musik,

die du versuchst.
Wir begleiten dein Spiel,
wir spielen die Glocken,

und du beflügelst uns die Hoffnung
wenn wir in deine Augen blicken, reines Blau,
und vernehmen dein Lied

faces are everywhere

in the little purple flowers behind the house
in the maple leaves wavering in the breeze
in the linoleum in the bathroom
in the blue carpet
in the hardwood

looking back at me
no smiles
just eyes nose mouth

posing questions like
what are you doing here
why are you looking at me

telling me
I`m just a flower
get on with it

Lovett

voice
craggy boulder with fissures
alone on a plain

he stands still
leaning slightly forward
black suit understating

narrow face
eyebrows raised in friendship
he sings of loss and gain
of whimsy and weeping
of rising up after defeat
of standing tall to the end

the rock sits shimmering
alone
unique
steadfast

Sarah in Kenya

five small bodies surround you
three on outstretched legs
black skin gleams like lake in moonlight
close-cropped black curls top each eager head

you contrast with
blonde hair shining in the sunlight
pale white skin
long legs

and yet there you are
fitting in like a big puzzle piece
making your journey a part of theirs
your lap an endless pool of love

Jocelyn at three

thick dark curls newly grown
button nose
round brown serious eyes
------radiate
------------life

up stairs on all fours
------legs too weak
running after dog causes coughing fit
steroids course through her body
------from recent chemo

determination personified
like those unruly curls
full force

back up from the couch
chasing dog again

no stopping her

Bailey

candy tongue spilling
tan fur soft as cloudy sky
on my lucky lap

swimming

sometimes I swim
slicing through cool lake
with awkward strokes
turning to breathe
only to the right

my eyes stay open
seeing sun slanting through water
algae clouding view

sometimes I swim
mind drifting back
to algae infused prayers
thoughts turning to breathe
in the sun-soaked
fireworks of love

sometimes I swim
getting it right

chemotherapy

bags hung upside down with tubes going through ticking machine
mixing and pumping all manner of substance into one tube
leading to my veins vying with the bastard cells in my blood
battling battling battling my heart racing my tongue telling
me that this battle is going on as I wait in this chair battling
boredom and despair until the bags are empty and
my body breaks free

incision #2

begins below sternum
down and then sharp turn
under rib cage
slicing to side

a sideways ell
redpinkpurple
starting to fade
blending into background
of skin
skidding into past

ell is for liver leaving past
behind
regenerating
growing
filling space behind ribs
with

hopestrengthlife

life force

grip
pull
snap
dead branches
drily break off trees
in backyard

no sap binds

unaccountably
living twigs sometimes grow
on these skeletal raven perches

grasp these leafy lives
and hold on
tight strands resisting removal