from America and England coming to bomb.
Now only energizing heat creating boundless effervescence
four boisterous boys balancing new independence
with adult suspicion of all things Canadian.
Four boys in love with the new found life
enthralled by our liberation
for we accept the land and speak the language.
Oblivious to the suffering mother for whom nothing is the same
except for her fears
the terror of war and occupation replaced by new trepidations.
This unknowable and empty land
stole her sons and gave nothing in return.
She fears she will not know them
as they gallop wildly away.
She can only swallow her dismay
and cry against the harsh sun and the silence of the land
and cry for the soft mists in the village
where the comfort of women and hum of community
help to endure all things.
Now the nearest neighbour
who she can’t understand
lives three miles away.
She cannot accept the land
and does not speak the language. ●
2018 Writing Contest
First Place Winner: Poetry (Tie)
Mark
by David Routledge
Beyond the clouds the Moon is full,
She’s sailed there since our dawn;
So silent with her patient pull,
Still there when we be gone.
A footprint lies beneath her skies,
Those skies so stark, severe,
And though forgot when last man dies,
That footprint came from here. ●
Yet lit by rays like dagger’s thrust
In silence sound can’t fill,
Old and cold and tinged with dust,
With moondust fine and still...
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