Nasturtiums
among impatiens
in my flower boxes,
their leaves a canopy
of open palms, green
platters for sun and
rain and wasps. Dew
pools in the centre,
stems and flowers taste
of summer, pepper-hot.
Squash blossoms yellow
in the abandoned raised bed
like a lesson never learned.
Someone I know has
just died yet I am as
confused by compost
as I am by death. I
remember we laughed
late into the night. My
son, so much like me,
is more comfortable
with metaphor than
with last week’s tulips
splayed in the vase,
their stamens on show.
Leaf and blossom
speak a language
I’m dying to understand.
*
Anne Archer (aka Archer Lundy) is a musician and poet who lives on unceded Algonquin Territory near Sharbot Lake, Ontario. Her recent poems appear in various Canadian and international journals and anthologies including Anti-Heroin Chic, Yolk, Pinhole, The Lothlorien Poetry Journal, In The Mood Magazine, and Otherwise Engaged. Her most recent book of poetry, EMMALINE/EVANGELINE (Woodpecker Lane Press, 2023) is an ekphrastic study based on her mother-in-law’s art; her family is equal parts chuffed and disgruntled. PROMPTED, another take on family and friends, is forthcoming from Kelsay Books.
From The Archives: Published on This Day
- Two Poems by Iris Cai (2024)
- A moment in Maui by LeeAnn Pickrell (2024)
- Three Poems by Hilary King (2023)
- poem by James Penha (2022)
- Four Poems by Anastasia Vassos (2022)

I love this!
gorgeous poem, the leaps / juxtapositions are very moving
This is great. I like the leap!