A Clearing is a meditation of the everyday -- both the joys and the losses observed in the natural world as they so closely mirror day-to-day human experience. There is a mystical edge to these poems that opens to deeper understanding of simple desire juxtaposed with the hard realities of homelessness, failed relationships, and loss in childbirth. A Clearing, Carson's first full collection of poetry, alternates between tender, poignant portraits and a sharper, darker voice evoked by difficult life experiences. Seasons are metaphors for loss and hunger, leading readers to larger revelations about aging, violence and global conflict. These poems are short, gritty and provocative, asking the reader to look harder at their own lives and the world around them. With the poems in A Clearing, Carson explores how having the courage to let go of the things that bog us down can lead to a place where sun shines through the shadows.
About the author
Born in Montreal and raised in Hudson, Quebec, Louise Carson studied music in Montreal and Toronto, played jazz piano, and sang in the chorus of the Canadian Opera Company. Her previous books include the literary mysteries The Cat Among Us and Executor, and the poetry collection A Clearing. Her poems have also been published coast to coast as well as in The Best Canadian Poetry 2013. She's twice been short-listed in FreeFall Magazine 's annual contest, and her poem “Plastic bucket” won a Manitoba Magazine Award for Prairie Fire. Louise has read her work in the Montreal area, Ottawa, Toronto, Saskatoon and New York City. She lives in rural Quebec, where she gardens, writes, and teaches music.
Excerpt: A Clearing (by (author) Louise Carson)
The fields begin to shield themselves
The fields begin to shield themselves in some soft metal underfoot as they ripen into hardness. The air quiets. Except for Christmas’ three-week hum, traffic thins. Some life has left the earth, been driven down and in. The metal spreads its silent hymn that sings of hardship, night; of frozen beings, their signals lost; records the broken keen of almost dogs. They spread out as they run for meat. Under the trees their lines bisect the rabbits’ shorter curves. Life joins life: gray fur, brown fur, metallic scent of blood.