WRITINGS 

Anna was the winner of the Newfoundland Young People's Arts and Letters Poetry and Prose Competition (2004, 2003). She has published in The Bezalel Journal (Issue 1: Intent), and is collaborating on a collection of poetry and art with Katherine Wilks.  Anna currently writes poetry, short stories and essays, while based between Margate, England and New Brunswick, Canada. 

 

POETRY EXCERPTS

(spring at the landing place)

aquamarine

sea light fills every pore left exposed

to sun and

each dry skin crevice caught by

yellow and green

diamonds dancing on warm wind

 

I walk soft feet over smooth rock

counting

thousands

white stone

bleached

whiter sand and

light dapples heady salt spray

breathing aquamarine

 

(breaking in, expanding out)

 crust catches cautionary comments

shields the soul for

hardening

rock-like chiselled by the white wind ravaging the winter coast

 

but you breathe a tale

bright birthing rays

like pink fingers cupping

the crust that melts layer by layer

in heat

hot sun without source

eternal red orange feeling

felt recoiling re-exposing bare skin

 

the hardened rock

and the shielding crust

the emphasis of reason over living

soften gently in

iris boughs and spring’s blossom blush

 

and I experience

my experience expanding

expanding outward

soul flowering out out…

 

(childlike)

we used to play imagine

on the beach rocks

that rolled along the east coast edge

 

but now, asked to play

grownup with words

we find mind

a dry dust space

 

no rock, no wind

no seascape envisioning

 

childlike (perhaps) we need

another escapade for this different undoing



stumbling into a dance
we stumbled into the clearing 
where the sun shone through sparse tall tops of trees
like swords gleaming
cutting through the dusty forest dross 
we stumbled into 
the middle of a moving sea of singing
the middle of a movement 
without beginning or ending
fenced off barbed lines giving way
to brilliant colour waves
of laughing  

and the joyful earth heaved
the hot breath of the living 
as the barefoot children 
danced in the present middle of the movement 
that enveloped the ending and beginning 
at the edge of the rough tipped north forest
in the clearing
where the bright light shone 
a thought 
in love must
everything come through 
and beyond my being
even this breath and 
thought i give 
born before my moment 

your word sustaining the 
unsaid before its poetry
 
momentary darkness
sorrow creeps across the banks of the east coast shore
like thick chilled fog
gold-dappled summer afternoon
and the calmed singing sea
now mottled grey in silent sadness
heaving aching

keep breathing
breathe in
draw in the living...

just now we were running bare-footed down the evergreen hill
just now we were swimming in the singing sea

draw in the living
fragrance of heavy salt air
hear the muffled hum of white canvas sail
pulled taut along the maple honey mast
press a finger to the trembling lip
see, still it lives
still we breathe

and this momentary eternity too shall pass away
as the sun scorches through this blinding mist
unrequited
a hidden sorrow
and the nebulous voice
the unwritten longing
the shrouded face 
I see the familiar shadow shape
shrouded in forbidden starch linen
the dress of the dying
and the thought is dying
the shrouded face and
thought are dying

choking back the breath
the life breath of the crystal young morning
when the mist lifted over the homeland
when the mist lifted over the heaving hills
and the dancing waves 

I see the familiar shadow shape
hidden sorrow
and the nebulous voice
the unwritten longing 

here now nonsubstantial ink
on a forgotten page
the traces
the remnant crumbs
of the beginning
broken in the breath of the saying