Tag: poems

  • Introspection

    Introspection

    On Boxing Day in Newfoundland. I start without ceremony or expectation, all wet sticks, newspaper bits, and saw cuts. I am lethargy and intention, watching broad swaths of sun coat the backs of mountains. I sit roughly, collapsed against black metal, smoking furtively, beckoning commitment not yet mustered. Around me, anxious possibilities swirl, whispering sweater […]