Cedar grimace in cold summer showers
While lonely pools drown out the undergrowth,
Exposing ragged roots to somber air.
The storm has passed but its wild mark remains.
Birch and Hawthorne, skewered by tongues of fire,
Lay spent in the mud, never more to rise.
Rain obscures our memory, washing out
Years of triumph or trouble with urgent
Summons to attend the trials of today.
All manner of griefs crowd in together,
Not sorrow of friends forever parted,
But menial tasks unfulfilled, holding
Hostage the nobler part of us that yearns
For purpose unfettered by the mundane.
And worse, these small tyrannies numb our hearts
At the parting hour, as expectations
Of a free and undiscovered country
Displace our care for loved ones still at hand.
But now, in looking back at those who wave
Even as they weep, I cannot find my tears.
Alas! These trees weep; these friends also weep.
What can I say? These words, these tears, are for you.
Todd Anderson (Stuff of the Rind, Sand and Sail, The Reluctant Prophet) writes the newsletter Mirth to share a behind-the-scenes look at his writing process as well as to offer readers the first fruits of his poetry and reflections. He grew up in the forests of small-town Ontario, contending against nature in all its beauty and harshness. His training as a literary scholar of Latin and English literature inflects his love of poignant turns of phrase, but it is the influence of his family and their myriad adventures together that infuses his story-telling and poetry with its substance and power. Todd lives and writes in Ottawa with his wife and six children. If you are interested in supporting Todd’s work, please follow the links below to donate or buy his books.
Todd Edward Anderson 