Issue 3
August
15
2001
bluetyger editorial...
WaterFest 2001 Art Exhibit After Action Report...
Gibson WaterFest Portofolio...
Battle of Georgian Bay...
Anne Langford - Poetry...
Jacques-Henri Lartigue - Photographer
Poems Erratic by William J. Gibson...
2x golden 3...
Summer reading...
4 old cameras 3 old photos...
Editor: William J. Gibson
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Anne Langford
New Poems
"Dirt", "Prairie Storm", and "First Ballet"
Dirt
A dump truck leaves a mound of earth on my driveway.
It sprawls there in misshapen form.
The girls abandon the bubbles and bound downstairs.
Bare and dripping on the steps, they stare,
pink bums longing to leap in the dirt
to rid themselves of clean.
Wheelbarrows later,
virgin soil cuts a black ribbon through the yard.
Moist from the dusk rain, it is an expectant bed
that beckons my toes in.
Soon too, my hands, arms,
body burrowing down, down.
I am a root taking hold,
my fetal blooms encased.
I am warm and ready, a lover in wait.
Sun rays ripple through the sod.
Send my colours exploding,
wild and bright against the jet ground.
Through the window,
my breath forms a steam cloud.
A garden.
Finally.
Prairie Storm
Blink open to black motion.
A heavy curtain drowns out place.
Rum breath stumble, some drunk's lost,
teetering near my upper bunk.
The others are undisturbed
but me, I'm on full alert.
The intruder wanders off.
I slip down pass the sleeping berths.
Find my father window watching.
Outside the land races.
Miles of flattened carpet
lit up by forked streaks stabbing the sky.
We hear little but the wheels rounding the tracks.
But the flashing repeats, sharp defined strokes
through the glass.
I wait for the hills but the flat flows
further yet further.
I want to wake everybody
but think better of it.
Sit out the night with Dad,
fingers on the map,
eyes on the silent storm.
I remember the hokey hypnosis we tried at summer camp.
But this midnight sideshow
on a moving train
beats all that.
First Ballet
Small hands finger smaller sateen purse
Just-in-case trinkets with silent wrappers
shiny hair slicked with daisy band
cream patent shoes
scuffed from a wedding
clicking the seat in front
below, an oboe twitters
the curtain moves
Opening music
bounces over the mezzanine
dancers--one, two, five, fifteen
lost count
White froth, pink icing
arms legs trace the mist
first mirage
She curls her toes
and sits up
Anne Langford
is a Toronto writer of poetry and children's fiction.
In September 2001, Alburnum Press will publish a chapbook of her new poems entitled, Holding Glass.
Contents Copyright (C) 2001 Anne Langford. Used with permission.
Photo image by W.J. Gibson
Articles and photos are Copyright (C) 2001 by their respective authors.
No part of this publication may be reproduced or stored in any form without prior written consent from the author(s).
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