publishing poetry only

Monday's Poem

"Heads on the Grass is with my two g'daughters and new great granddaughter, Hannah."

Leanne McIntosh is a Nanaimo poet who spends several months of the year in Montreal. She is currently working on a suite of poems with the working title Montreal Psalms. She is the author of two books of poetry, The Sound the Sun Makes and Liminal Space, as well as a Leaf Press chapbook, The Attitude of the Tree.


© 2007 Leanne McIntosh

The Man and Woman On Amherst Street

They've forgotten the difference
between loving and fighting
forgotten the subtleties
layered inside pleasure and shame
how eagerness brims the touch
and beauty can be withheld
how a tree screams when it falls
how a woman shouts a name
the glass vase and red tulips
crashing, petals and splinters
a lover's promise after
passion is spent. How they think
they can return to the past
re-enter the empty house
sweeter, lighter, more potent
because like stars collapsing
they burn billions of times more
brightly than the sun. How they
forget to love more than fight
how they hold more than let go
how freedom is a language
they don't understand and when
there's no more talk, no more shouts
they pace until dawn, afraid
to be taken, unaware
of how beautiful they are