Tom Thomson’s Sketches

– necklaces of leaves on slaughtered necks, crumpled stumps
– fire pits welling up red-pine limbs, bubonic, cannibalistic
– 2 dogs wrestling, black & white
– birch & smoke
– eels of heat from snouts, fur, paws, shit
– rusted trees, minus 3rd degree burns, welts of tamarack
– parade of women in fabrics of speckled trout on floats flying the Turkish flag, waving
– splashing in the ice-lake, pulling on the crescent of the wind-loosened canoe
– the spitting image
– the other, Tom Thomson drowned in your basement when the water heater seized up
– strips of socks and sleeves of fish frozen on the roots of an upturned tree
– smoke, the grey erasure-smudge of wind
– story retold re: two weeks of warmth in Jan. colouring trees with buds before being silenced with snow
– rocks as ballasts scraping across the lake
– a country of gem-stoning
– the lost map the treasure buried in the glitter-heated thunderbox
– and from here, to cross through into Winter, heaving the body

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