Linda King 


on this kindling night


on this kindling night    the wind
carries your name into the forest
you can hear a weeping chorus
through the cedar trees    all low harmonies
for that Ontario girl in her worn out shoes
that girl who kept walking away
from her worn out welcomes
toward a late day darkness
that girl who had to learn
the language of loss    learn
that everything   even love
can be mistaken for 
something else



in the small scale ordinary


despite everything    your past is forever

it remains in all those years
that don’t belong to you
like night in wild surprise
or bolts of lightning-strike myths

only the soil is left to smoulder
and even in the rain    dust settles
between everything

each season of rough weather
is washed with regret
empty pockets    raw edges

in the small scale ordinary
most of us choose
the wrong happiness

Linda King is the author of five poetry collections including Reality Wayfarers (Shoe Music Press, 2015) and antibodies in the alphabet (BlazeVOX Books, 2019). Her work has appeared in numerous literary journals, has been nominated for Best of the Net and also for the Pushcart Prize. King lives and writes on the Sunshine Coast of British Columbia, Canada.

 
 

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