The Scent of Leaves in Summer, 2016



it was

by chance we met, le parc Marguerite Bourgeoys


green space

developed before her birth


those flats

she lived in when she was seven, nearby


the park

was the same, yet not, she said


apparently there

had been a bandstand, seats


we walked

along the path, our shadows touching


she sat

out of necessity


her stories

of her childhood: a lone child among younger

   siblings, fear, dogs, detour around them to feel safe,

   she never did


movie night

in the park everyone sauntering in one direction


that sound

is a dog barking? yes, she had a dog


behind her

the swish of a frisbee, boys jumping through air


newly planted

trees


we talked

between breaths in concentric circles


in winter

I don’t think of snow falling, she said


I remember

the scent of leaves in summer

2019 + 2020


of history and memory

            Trinity

             Hibakusha


to then to now


sleeping at the neuro


5 days


to describe the journey

            the ghosts that haunt the land

            left behind memories

            later I will say

                     

concertina


time gathered into


2018


sister birds for Saint Francis

            genus passer

            genus corbus

 

rhythm of this train across the miles


winter / spring / summer / autumn


2016


The Scent of Leaves in Summer

        joint project with photographer Jessica Blair


poem


Anti-Narrative


2015


rotation


2013


rosy


poem for October


2008


Away


2007


aria


2002


Poem in Grey Tones

                    Quotidian

                    Housebound

                    Goodbye

                    Summer Days


2000


Où il est un question de la nature