Sunday Poems II

Last night nearly everyone I know was at the Nuit Blanche event downtown. Looking back through the record on Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook, I’m struck by how rare it is that so many people are in the same place at once in this city. It’s hardly worth saying at this that Edmonton is very spread out, except to point out that it’s hardly worth saying. Anything that can get a good number of us in one space is remarkable. Moreover, it’s nice to see a public art event where the lead sponsor is the city of Edmonton.

Nuit Blanche was not how I chose to spend my night, however. I meant to read a book and get to bed early, but the process of clearing off the table beside my reading chair evolved into a nine hour cleaning binge which kept me up until four in the morning. In a way, I did still experience Nuit Blanche without being there, because social media was keeping me updated with the perspectives of the people I knew who were there. It’s a bit like how you can maybe see me at my desk as you are reading this. In a sprawling city, social media serves as a surrogate for the locomotion we struggle to accomplish.

Every Sunday, by posting a poem here, I’m hoping to bring us a little bit closer to occupying the same space, even if just for a few moments. I recommend sitting down with a cup of tea, beer, wine, or water and enjoying a moment of connection.Sunday


Blood Moon

under the blood moon
we open your pear cider
and read poems from two different
steve roggenbuck books.

we are under the blood moon
wearing sweaters
and with a video camera
pointed all around
we look up
and drink your pear cider.

we are under the blood moon
and it is fall and we are
sick of it being summer anyway;
it’s time for a new season.

we are under the blood moon
crushing apples.

we pass a cup full of chunks of apple
floating in liquid apple around the circle.

i had a cold last week
so i’m not worried about getting sick again.
i’m happy to be drinking from the same cup
under the moon.

we were looking up for too long.

and it’s worth remembering
that there weren’t any clouds.


This post was originally written on September 27, 2015 for Latitude 53, while I was their Writer in Residence.