Honourable mention poetry
Kingdom
snow falls
like seed
on the fields
on the roads
piling up
growing
stopping everything
like a parable
Randy Klassen
Making Scents of My Childhood
Gas and old leather – Dad’s shed.
Crisp wind-dried sheets – my bed.
Homemade jam, sweet and runny.
Fresh-baked bread with Bugs Bunny.
Scent memories, straight to my head!
Lilacs – the perfume of May.
Wild roses in June, soon make way
For dill, savoury, and mint
And the smell of the wind
On kids who’ve played outdoors all day.
Oil ’n’ tar (from those trips to Tranquille).
Ski-Doo gas and that light-headed feel.
An old book – worn and musty.
Wood stove heat – warm and dusty.
Christmas trees! (and learning Santa’s not real).
These smells, they transport me through time;
So I still hang my sheets on the line,
Ride behind a Ski-Doo,
Buy old books (not a few!)
Plant a garden, and bake fresh bread for mine.
Ruth Janzen
Comments (0)