Lights home for daughter

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This article was published 19/4/2016 (2268 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

National Poetry Month: David Williamson reads Lights home for daughter


Lights home for daughter


11:05pm: escape is more than crossing rivers

septembering nowhere towns

more than unknotting cutter scars under lace gloves

it is more than Jerome’s hashpipe

in the pocket of your knapsack

less than his guitar silent in your closet

2:09am: backhome buzzing stars blind

to a crescent moon taking lonesome root
in dirt black sky
golden green night whispers dance

before tamarack orange autumn truth

the fall like childhood
change spent south

3:51am:  kookum’s paper jesus book mark

a fifty dollar bill

dried tiger lilies

pressed into Cohen

Highway 6 south of 53
a half white grey gosling

spinning your hours away

in a travelling neighborhood

everyone is homeless

hoping perhaps the next stop

may claim one

5:55am:  begging others your quiet

these southern trees wear different costumes

hide in sleepy sunrises
you did not finish
summer's dance

this road a life prayer

you—blood river collected

in bone bowl memory

more than a rope loophole

for a guitar-playing boy named Jerome

his whispered breath

clinging to your coat tails still

8:25am:  "I need to know home" you text me


David Yerex Williamson lives next to the Nelson River in Norway House, Manitoba with his family and three orphaned dogs. When not writing, David shovels a lot of snow, cuts fire wood, and works for the University College of the North. His work has appeared in Aesthetica, Quint, and Contemporary Verse 2.

"Lights home for daughter" was first published in Contemporary Verse 2 Vol. 37 No. 2 (Fall 2014).

The Winnipeg Free Press will be running poems by Manitoba poets every weekday in April to celebrate National Poetry Month. The NPM in the WFP Project was edited by Ariel Gordon.