Adult Category - 2nd Place Winner







september - indian summer wind

rolling land and two rivers below our crest trail, we hunker on the sunset ledge
jackets snapping, isolated by wind’s shadow-world howl and shape shift
white pegged, yellow aspen scratch saskatoon’s purple haze
our words swirl into dirt-clouds over geometrically ploughed fields

we await twilight’s euphony when the wind dies to coyote
whistles and yips mantra calling anima / animus into the dark

stars pin the night together
common snowberries pearl the silence that drifts through our bodies

Marilyn Belak, (Dawson Creek, BC)