publishing poetry only

Monday's Poem

Photo: Matthew Verbonac

Angela Cowan was born in Vancouver and moved to the Island in late childhood. She began writing at a young age, first by penning her feelings and ideas in diaries, then later creating characters and universes in short stories. She is rarely without a notebook to jot ideas in, and can be found scribbling in any free moment during the day. Angela is also a certified Aromatherapist. She continues with her studies in natural medicine, and is currently working on a novel.

© 2007 Angela Cowan

The Taste of Beets

The taste of beets
hidden under a cloud
of goat cheese soufflé
takes me from this uneven
wooden table
to a lush forest of sweetgrass
four feet tall.

Eight years old
still small enough to move
among these stalks with stealth
I am alone
laying starfished on the fertile soil.

The Earth's sun warmed bed
cradles me
envelops me in a serenity and oneness
beyond my short years and
not known
inside the house that looms so close.

My fingers bury themselves
savouring and clutching
this silence so deep I can hear
the rustle of roots stretching
ever downwards.

Looking up through grassy stalks
that reach into infinite blue
Heaven seems tangible
brought closer within my grasp
by the feathery tips pulling it down to me.

This tangy taste of green
of the dirt that was
this beet's womb
of the nourishing raindrops
that wept from the sky

these tastes burst
upon my tongue and
take me in a blink
to a moment
when my world was warm
and fragrant
held in the secure embrace
of my second mother.