I’m a freelance writer and editor living in Toronto. As an avid nature lover, I can often be found running in High Park on the weekends with my husband and our spirited Papillon. My first full-length poetry collection, When the Earth, was published by Quattro Books in 2011. Since then, I’ve also published a chapbook, This Cabin, with LyricalMyrical Press, and am currently one of the organizers of the longest running poetry-only, weekly reading series in Canada, the Art Bar.
For a day I was a librarian,
and carried out all sorts
of librarian duties,
catalogued a whole poetry section,
reshelved books from philosophy
And I tell you, it was an honour
to be a custodian of books,
to assign a proper call number,
to survey the inside cover
and record all the details
from where and when it was published
to who wrote the introduction,
and really, I can see why librarians
turn out to be the hot ones,
all that text, knowledge and care
mixed into one delicious body.
This morning, white clusters of crocuses
on an abandoned hill in a park,
home to discarded plastic bags,
last summer’s takeout and fallen
branches from countless storms,
weeds already growing tall,
and yet here are the white crocuses
among all this chaos – their crisp
pointed petals and bright yellow centers.
The dog sniffs hopefully before stepping
on them in pursuit of some new scent.
This evening, the air is fresh, not unfriendly,
and when we get to the abandoned hill,
the crocuses are buds again –
so tightly closed, like rolled white cloth.
So often in the evenings
something like unease wraps around us.
Even the flowers know to fold in on themselves,
to ponder the meaning of their existence
in the confines of their dark dwellings.
©2016 Lisa Young
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