Poetry Train Monday - 111 - In His Neighbour's Boat

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For today's piece of found poetry, I'm heading back into my 1980 diary.

That summer I lived the thrill of my first romantic relationship. This is from an afternoon and evening spent at my boyfriend's house. He lived on a lake and was one of seven kids. Coming from a family of two sisters myself, I just adored being gathered into the mob of his large family.


In His Neighbour's Boat


Mr. Savage found me a
Bathing suit

Philip, Barney, Brigie and I
Went swimming

The water was
Warm

I stayed for supper
Clam chowder, which was
Good

Pat lent me his
PA High School grey sweatpants
And an orange jacket

I went sailing
With Philip
In his neighbour's boat

While the neighbour
- Peter -
And Philip
Set up the boat

I held onto Hannah
Peter's delightful little baby

Sailing
Was a lot of fun
We had to
Watch out for
Speedboats
Skiers

The waves
They made
Were fun

- Julia Smith, July 26, 2009 / original text July 22, 1980

Poetry Train Monday - 110 - Forest Bed

Saturday would have been my friend Pam's birthday, so I was thinking about her all day. She passed away a year ago last week.

Today's found poem is taken from a prose writing exercise from March of this year at my writers' group. We were doing a workshop on color, and I had to write something focusing on the color green.

Who else could I think of for green but my Eco Hero friend, Pam Langille?
















Forest Bed


Deep
In the Acadian forest
I sit

Under the canopy
of fir trees
Deep

Green needles sway
In the breeze
Filtering the light

Through greyed
Brown branches
Emerald green leaves

Poke through the firs
Beech and birch
Bright moist green moss

Coating fallen trunks
Gathered back
Into the soil

Soft feathery green
Lichen clings
To rock

The rock that marks your place
Your place is among the roots
Of the shining ancient hemlock

Soft
Little
Green

Needles draped
Over
Your forest bed

- Julia Smith, July 19, 2009 / original text March 2009













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Poetry Train Monday - 108 - A Saucer and a Jar

This piece of found poetry is a journal entry from six years ago.

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A Saucer and a Jar


Noticed a loud war whoop outside
Mom called
Said there was fire in the woods
Just behind our house

Brad called it in
We quickly dressed
Put our dog in the kitchen
I grabbed a saucer and a jar

We ran out around the house
To the ball field
A garbage can on its side
Contents on fire

Dead tree
One end in the can
Underbrush smoldering already
Brad and I set to work

Threw sand from the ball field
Onto the fire
I went under the trees
Rolled the can with my foot

Out from the trees
Onto the grass
Kids lurking in shadows
Behind school

Kids called out to us
Said Fuck you
We returned the compliment
Brad told them to come out

So he could kick
Their fucking asses
Cowards I taunted
No one came out

Fire truck
Eventually arrived
Brad sprained ankle
Running to meet them

Three firemen
With foam spray-can
Put out remains of
Smoldering fire

They said they get called
To this area repeatedly

Washed soot
From my arms and face
Put our smoky clothes
In a bag

Put a cold cloth
On Brad's ankle
An hour later
Heard crashing in the woods

I shouted
I wouldn't stay there
If I were you
Heard a bird-type cry

Brad called it in
I got dressed
Stood in front of house
To wait

A mountie pulled up
To talk to me
She drove around the school
Told me doors were bashed in

She said I'll be
Working on that tonight
At any rate
Got a call

Have to act on that
She said
Drove off
I headed inside

Sat on the couch
Brad's sore ankle
On my lap
Our dog all tired out

Next day
Went to ball field
Rolled garbage can
Across the grass

To the brick school
Left it standing on gravel
Appealing to laziness factor
Hope they won't want to move it so far


- Julia Smith, 2009 / original text August 2003

















Photo by Ralph Maughan