"I will hang myself in picture frames
in drawing rooms where grief
is not allowed a wicker chair"
Susan Rich's poem is an ode to the life and work of Hannah Maynard, a pioneer of experimental photography in British Columbia.
Category: Poetry
Sea Star and Ode to a Crow
Two poems by Vancouver's Fiona Tinwei Lam explore human interactions with nature in Cascadia: observations on the endangered sunflower sea stars of the West Coast, and an ode to Canuck, Vancouver's most famous crow.
Two poems
"Nothing spooks the horses into flight
like inertia. Not lightning, barn fire.
Not the whips we take to their sides
to drive them forward."
Two news poems, "Appaloosa," and "A Jar to Keep the Earth In" by Portland's John Sibley Williams.
Falcon Watching & Elk: two poems
Two poems of human-wildlife interactions in the San Juan Islands by Samuel Green, a former Washington state poet laureate.
In the Little Wenatchee Drainage
"we entered ancient forest: grand fir, mountain hemlock,
silver fir. On the forest floor we found the familiar:
wild ginger, twayblade, oak fern, bedstraw."
Seattle poet Martha Silano's poem explores regrowth in a forest touched by fires.
We All Want Marshmallows
"the sky is a black sheep
bleating and I can’t even
see the wolf in the photo
you texted me"
Adèle Barclay's poem of love and letting go on Galiano Island.
Trudeau
"No one noticed,/ not even him, the black speck/ at the corner of his smile./ It began to spread, creeping across his lips/ like an oil-bled kiss."
A poem from Rob Lewis about the pipeline-addicted prime minister.
This Was The River
"This was the river hiked dreaming upstream
dropping gear and then clothing for the full
brown pull of surrendered connection, deliverance."
An introspective poem set on the banks of the Fraser River, by British Columbia poet John Pass.
Elegy for Tahlequah’s Calf
In a powerful poem, Paul Nelson helps us grieve along with an orca mother who has been keeping her dead calf afloat for more than five days in the Salish Sea.
In Praise of Not Knowing the Names of Birds
A poem by Judith Barrington:
"I cannot name the one with the scimitar beak and the mohawk
who spends all day drilling holes in tree trunks."