Rachel Small
Rideau Canal
they say a hundred irish men linger beneath the surface of
the canal/ with their hands crossed in memory of red light/
some left green pastures with pockets
filled with seed/ and others with bellies
fed with rotten peel/ both waiting to
bridge the distance/ for water to pass
beneath their bodies/ with a dream of
gold coins pressed over their eyes/ as
they sink into the soft mud/ bodies
slipping into sacred divinity/ and old
history.
the canal/ with their hands crossed in memory of red light/
some left green pastures with pockets
filled with seed/ and others with bellies
fed with rotten peel/ both waiting to
bridge the distance/ for water to pass
beneath their bodies/ with a dream of
gold coins pressed over their eyes/ as
they sink into the soft mud/ bodies
slipping into sacred divinity/ and old
history.
Biography
Rachel Small (she/her) writes in Ottawa. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in magazines, including ottawater, many gendered mothers, The Hellbore, The Shore, and other places. She was the recipient of honourable mention for the John Newlove Poetry Award for her poem "garbage moon and feminist day". You can find her on twitter @rahel_taller.
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