here in the wet
…a child stops on the street and tries to pry from concrete the stuck-on part of a wing some hatchling that grew big but could not fly and was crushed, body so scant it vanished under rain and beaks of crows only ribs of desiccated primaries remain – and these he wants to lift up, but his mother scolds him, laughing, nonplussed he has yet to learn what cannot be safely touched and this stir returns to the boy later when he has sons of his own, sees so often hazards of the day, learns not to fear them entirely and thus is pierced hearing his mother’s mirth, she among the long dead her shining hair once constant, comforting gone, and he recalls a purple shadow fleeting through that breath: his father peered down as if he, too, could toy with an emptiness that yet wanted holding as it called out for a child’s moist hand
Who?
David Zieroth has published many books of poetry including The Fly in Autumn (2009), which won the Governor General’s Literary Award for Poetry, How I Joined Humanity at Last (1998), which won the Dorothy Livesay Poetry Prize, and most recently, Albrecht Dürer and me (2014). He taught at Douglas College in New Westminster, BC, before retiring and founding The Alfred Gustav Press. Born in Neepawa, MB, he lives in North Vancouver, BC.
What?
The title poem in David Zieroth’s the bridge from day to night follows the speaker across the Second Narrows Bridge to North Vancouver, a well-worn moment in a daily commute that opens a window into the sublime: “from the apex / of the bridge with traffic flying / I look directly into / their deepest clefts.” Such moments occur throughout the collection, as Zieroth explores the resonance built from layers of such ordinary moments as they accumulate throughout a lifetime—indistinct and imperceptible as they occur, but creating unseen undercurrents through memory and time.
In this temporal landscape, the natural world becomes a touchstone, both entangled in and standing apart from the speaker’s internal narrative: “I brought from that forming hour a / precise smell of foliage: funeral wreaths / bore an acid scent.” Shifting fluidly through time, the speaker grows from a child to understand, reflect and then outlive his parents. Finally, the collection lights on the incongruities and contradictions in death: “still later I kick his flattened corpse / to the gutter, and it skids on concrete / a broken valise, weightless / on this segment of the journey.”
With his characteristic humour, subtlety and ability to find transcendence in the everyday, Zieroth traces the delicate strands connecting the most minute and familiar details to the most profound mysteries, giving voice to the unknowable.
When?
Arrived March 2018.
Where?
Purchase from the Harbour Publishing website or at your local bookstore. $18.95.
How?
Tracing the delicate strands.
The copyrights of all poems included in the series remain with their authors, and are reprinted with the permission of the publishers.
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