The Colours of the Forest
- Publisher
- Harbour Publishing Co. Ltd.
- Initial publish date
- Jan 1999
- Category
- Canadian, General
-
Paperback / softback
- ISBN
- 9781550172027
- Publish Date
- Jan 1999
- List Price
- $16.95
Classroom Resources
Where to buy it
Description
In this new collection, Canadian poet Tom Wayman, long honoured for his incisive observations on life in the workplace and the classroom, takes a more personal turn. Many of these poems celebrate the gains and losses of "middle-aging," while others reflect on the deaths of parents and friends. Readers of "Life with Dick" and "The Big O" will be relieved to find that, through it all, one quality of Wayman's writing that keeps gaining in vigour is his fine subversive sense of humour.
Considered the guru of the North American work poetry movement, Wayman adds depth to the tradition in his latest work by writing white-collar workers alongside blue-collar workers, drawing on his experiences in both worlds.
About the author
Awards
- Short-listed, Dorothy Livesay Poetry Prize
Excerpt: The Colours of the Forest (by (author) Tom Wayman)
THE RESURRECTION OF THE CLOWN
Once she died
she stopped changing
and became so clear
she could reemerge
-- her bright brittle spunkiness
her off-key songs
her delight in balloons
her dogged
practicing
of tap dance
how her body closes in
when she makes love
her limbs and thighs
and face
concentrating
on joy
These aspects of her
and more
week after week
appeared to
members of the Clown Society
who whispered
about the phenomenon
And former members of her audience
noticed an event
a motion
their memory pulled and twisted
until they could name
where they encountered
her
In this manner
she was reassembled
in other existences
part
by part
until she was reborn
with her own mind
altered by the lessons
death teaches
to the living
ANTHEM: UNDER THE HORNED MOON
Often the crescent moon
sails stiffly vertical
Other times it floats
almost on its back
This night
I am driving 1-84 west down Gorges
into the open arms
of a horizontal horn of light
During my years
beneath the moon's phases
I, anxious and exhilarated,
have steadily felt the road
coming toward me like a spoon
toward a baby
the asphalt pouring under the vehicle's
hood, front bumper
The highway's distances
feed me
As I cover ground,
I am simutaneously racing closer
and away
The motion perfect
perfectly lonely
like this moon