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Poetry Canadian

Common Brown House Moths

by (author) Laura Zacharin

Publisher
Frontenac House Ltd.
Initial publish date
Sep 2019
Category
Canadian
  • Paperback / softback

    ISBN
    9781927823989
    Publish Date
    Sep 2019
    List Price
    $19.95

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Description

In Common Brown House Moths, poems step back from the hurry, blur and ordinariness to take a closer look at the the hazards of daily life. From her work as a doctor and everyday family life, first time author, Laura Zacharin considers themes of memory, change, Illness, recovery and loss. A variety of poetic forms, uses energy of these forms to engage with encounter and experience. Sometimes with humour, always with stark honesty, and often indirectly, Zacharin uses ordinary language for clarity and immediacy in this elegant and imagistic collection rife with emotional pull.

About the author

Contributor Notes

Laura has been a family physician in Toronto since 1990. In 2018 she completed her Creative Writing Certificate at University of Toronto’s School of Continuing Studies and was the recipient of the Marina Nemat Award for Poetry. She was a finalist in 2016 for the Janice Colbert Poetry Award and in 2018 for The Malahat Review’s Far Horizons Poetry Contest. In 2017 she attended the Emerging Writer’s Intensive at the Banff Centre. Her poetry has appeared in The Fiddlehead, CV2, and The Malahat Review.

Excerpt: Common Brown House Moths (by (author) Laura Zacharin)

Now the Dog

 

won’t take his morning walk. Even with the time change, the morning light. He still barks his young man bark when I pick up the leash, or Emma puts on a coat, ties her shoes, goes to the door. It takes long for him to stand. Especially from his back legs, where the x ray showed the worst of it. And his fur looks matted, from lying down so much I think, even grey, just since this winter. His eyes want to walk. You can tell, even if you don’t know dogs. He’s Emma’s dog. Ten years ago when she was seven, I thought I had a brain tumour so I agreed to a dog. When he gets outside he lies down, breathing loudly, on the lawn, so she brings him back inside. From the couch at the window he watches the walkway. Every week he gets an injection that costs 35 dollars. Emma’s learnt to give it. She draws the clear solution into the 50 cc syringe. People say she’s too sensitive. It’s just a dog, they say. When I pick up the leash we wait and watch to see if he will stand.