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Poetry Canadian

Grass Widow

by (author) Apryl Leaf

Publisher
Libros Libertad
Initial publish date
Apr 2010
Category
Canadian
  • Paperback / softback

    ISBN
    9781926763040
    Publish Date
    Apr 2010
    List Price
    $17.00

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Description

Libros proudly presents a new passionate poetic voice in the Canadian literary landscape. These poems suggest the sounds of a rich inner life resonating with multiple hidden worlds in and outside the poet. Grass Widow prospects boldly over the exposed surfaces of natural phenomenon, exploring dark and hopeful places that are scorched with loneliness and yearning, quenched with tenderness and optimism. The author distills with precise technique, her ventures through novel places, memories and relationships, using layers of imagery to inform her experiences and emotions. Through appreciation for all the elements of life, a determination of spirit allows the poet to explore fulfilled or unresolved questions and desires from a unique perspective.

About the author

Apryl Leaf was born in Ashcroft, B.C. and was raised in the Interior town of Falkland. She composed her first poems at the age of 11. After graduation she enrolled in outdoor school and then studied music, creative writing and literature in North Vancouver, joining others in the summer months for reforestation work in the Interior and Coastal mountains. She became employed in a variety of marine-based work and marine studies as well as raising a daughter. She earned a journalism diploma, then worked as a reporter for small North and South Coast newspapers. She edits poetry for a Lower Mainland book publisher.

Apryl Leaf's profile page

Excerpt: Grass Widow (by (author) Apryl Leaf)

Dig

Loving night's gift rowed through the canyon of low tide arbutus and fir silhouettes the broad welcome of the old constellations swelling on my mercury oar wake lending courage to drag the skiff over the bony spit gravel beds sculpted by the last storm to rise sharply and fall like the winter night low low tide with no moon in the dark we grope the garden for smooth little mounds from under sand we weigh the fruit in our left palm the other digs with an oyster shell