Monday, April 20, 2015

20 of 30: "Cast from Bells" by Suzanne Hancock

It's Monday evening, and Megan Levad just gave an incredible reading at Literati Bookstore. I'm inspired by her, and by poetry again.

I'd like to share a poem by Suzanne Hancock from her book Cast from Bells (McGill-Queen's University Press, 2010). It goes:

Starts in the chest like tin or wind through dead wood,
a spark, strike and flinch like dropping your bike
where the road joined forest in childhood,
feet flying along the trail, accepting your snakelike
progress around the world and back, a long hike
through rock fields and desert, lavender and dust,
dressing up and down, falling flat then timid flight,
waking hung-over the day after the darkest
and it's still dark. But something sweet has surfaced
from inside the skin and out, finally big and light,
a marriage of every naked thought and trust,
climb onto that branch and look out from this height
always and never quite a stranger's life,
as simple and crucial as a promise or a lie.

20 of 30. Happy National Poetry Month!