Finding the Colors: Recently published writing and photos, August 2023
Grimoire, Bees in Winter, and Ukrainian Poets
First up this month is a slightly surreal astrophysics-inspired poem, “artificial singularity”—I was quite thrilled to have it appear in a new online journal called Daughter’s Grimoire (a grimoire is a book of magic spells), in their issue 2 with a UFO theme.
https://www.thedaughtersgrimoire.com/theufoissue
Their resident artist created a really lovely cover page for it.
artificial singularity we rehearse our meeting of minds in a cupboard of stars they shine only during daylight red star white star their outer paths visible invisible sudden cold silences the sun subliminal thoughts vanish lightning organized electricity flings our dreams shining skull-light towards life uncommon * Some phrases adapted from William Firebrace, Star Theatre, Reaktion Books, 2017
On the subject of cover images, a photo I took of a frosty upstairs window was selected by Young Raven’s Literary Review as cover photo for their issue 18 with the theme of “minutiae”—the small or precise details of something—which is what much of my poetry involves.
They also included another photo of mine and two poems. First, a poem inspired by a friend’s preparation of his beehives for winter.
December Passage for Rodney’s bees Through the train window, a winter sunbeam tracks across shorn fields like a pale searchlight. Horses in colored blankets pick their way through the snow. Tiny blue lights on bushes by a farmhouse glow like juniper berries. Two little houses in a town look good enough to eat, a lemon square and brownie frosted with powdered sugar. Farm owners have tucked bees away in hives under pillows and blankets and hope their wings won’t slow to a stop as they huddle around the queen, vibrating their bodies in a tight ball to stay warm. Even with stored honey, and supplemental fondant sandwiched between sheets of newspaper, many bees will die, and farmers cross their fingers all winter until they hear a gentle hum under the warmth of spring sun.
And a poem about the 1980 eruption of Mt. St. Helens (a stratovolcano in Washington State), from the perspective of living in Missoula, Montana.
On July 19, I was privileged to participate in a fundraising event at a small theatre in Kingston for some Ukrainian women, poets and musicians who fled to Canada and settled in Ottawa. The poets read their work in both Ukrainian and English, and a few local poets shared work related to Ukraine and the current war. I read an unpublished poem of mine titled Urban War Zone, Ukraine:
Urban War Zone, Ukraine
Musicians play their instruments in bunkers,
metro stations and basements, or improvise
notes of hope with wires, pipes and boxes,
like tentative whispers of the trench cello long ago
on the frontlines of Ypres—melodies from deep places
where pulses mix and mingle, music that inspires
the fearful to think of their cramped shelter
as more than a volume of dead breath.
I also read some poems by a NYC friend, Olena Jennings—of Ukrainian heritage—
https://www.olenajennings.com/
from her book The Age of Secrets (Lost Horse Press, 2022), as well as a poem by Yuliya Musakovska, translated by Olena.
Local artist Joanne Gervais did her trademark live speed sketching and produced this stylized and fanciful portrait of me—complete with Ukrainian colours in the background, the scarf I wore (given to my mother by a Ukrainian woman), and the illusion of red hair from the angle of the stage lighting.
I wish peace for the people of Ukraine, and all good things for you during the autumn months. Thanks for reading Finding the Colors.