litterary walk

Posted: August 17, 2015 in carol bruneau
Tags: , , , ,

bruneau1 - Copy

Before the diesel wheeze and asphalt
rumble, before a miasma of butts (battlefield: satellite view),

before a grizzle of frying meat and bagpipes’ blare from some
opened window, before the ash

bruneau2

of car parts meets crusher dust (summer eats winter),
before a gloveless thumb, a rotting orange, a greasy list
(hamburger, carrots), and before a sock requiring
a zillion Tide-washings to resume life
(question, common as Tim’s
cups: why just one?),
before such urban wreckage—

bruneau3 - Copy

(never mind a shady smell, cut grass and gas, small engines grazing Joni-style hissing lawns), on a path walled by rose-hung chain-link, this:

Like a hard candy sucked clear, Stop, it says,
Pick me up and I’ll save you, goes its evening-blue flare (daybreak pink
or sunset glow) best left for a signal-reader who knows
her stuff
—a blazing-trail commuter? a kid with training wheels?—
(red sky at night, yada yada, red sky in the morning) and takes
fair warning: whoa.

bruneau4 - Copy

Carol Bruneau is a novelist, essayist and reviewer who lives in Halifax. Her latest book is These Good Hands, based on the life of French sculptor Camille Claudel. She teaches writing at NSCAD University.

She can be found at www.carolbruneau.com

(photos by Carol Bruneau)
♦♦♦

Up Next:

clare“It was the last time they ever saw the therapist, as Myra had less time to remember to refill her dog’s prescription for canine Prozac after the baby, and it would not be long before she gave the dog away altogether.”

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s