Saturday, July 25, 2015

Vernon Mooers writes

                                           Who Has Seen the Wind

                                The jacket, tweed
                                I remember him in St.John’s
                                a long time ago, remember some words
                                a signature in my book
                                like a museum guest.
                                Here, the pipes, burning tires
                                factory outlets
                                the wind from the north
                                dusty, like Harmattan
                                the sand, endless
                                forever shifting
                                like sea waves

1 comment:

  1. In this most-allusive poem, Vernon experiences a day in the Middle Eastern desert, where the wind brings back his days in West Africa and the winter Harmattan winds blowing in from the Sahara, and one of Canada's most popular novels, WHO HAS SEEN THE WIND by W. O. Mitchell, about growing up in Saskatchewan "with the ckickety of grasshoppers bunging in arcs ... and the hum and twang of wind in the great prairie harp of telephone wires." And the novel's title, of course, recalls the poem by Christina Rossetti:

    Who has seen the wind?
    Neither I nor you:
    But when the leaves hang trembling,
    The wind is passing through.

    Who has seen the wind?
    Neither you nor I:
    But when the trees bow down their heads,
    The wind is passing by.


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