"It’s All In A Name" by Sandy Martin

It’s All In A Name

Saskatoon’s a funny name
For a girl to call her cat,
And a dog with curls and matted fur
Who answers to Medicine Hat!

There’s a cow that’s milked to the tune of a crow
Who sings when you shout Montreal!
And a rooster called Max,
(His twin's Halifax),
Who yodels at nothing at all.

There’s a bat named Vancouver, a rabbit called Hope
And a horse they call Antigonish.
And I’ve heard there’s a bird who speaks barely a word,
Though he’s been known to whisper ‘I wish…’.

A goat up in Kent sleeps by the church
With a goose who’s known as Nain.
 And a donkey in Digby
Who's not where he should be
And brays at the whistle of trains.

There’s a moose called Whitehorse, (though not horse, of course)
And a beaver called Bumble Bee Bight
And a tiny brown finch, who, given a pinch,
Believes he's the hawk in the sky.    

Oh, how I wish I could name each and all!
The herons, the frogs and the toads.
The caribou, bears, the foxes and wolves,
The snakes when they're crossing the road.
I'd give them all names that made them feel proud
Like Carcross and Rustico Bay,
Like Bracken and Red Deer and Pointe a Pinette
And even the ones I can't say!               

*** 

Sandy Martin lives in BC on a small island in the Salish Sea between Vancouver and Vancouver Island. She shares her life with her husband, an everchanging number of dogs and two donkeys. She has worked in creative nonfiction, short stories and, her first love, poetry. Sandy is currently working on her first novel.

See Brian Henry’s schedule here, including online and in-person writing workshops, weekly writing classes, and weekend retreats in Algonquin Park, Alliston, Bolton, Barrie, Brampton, Burlington, Caledon, Collingwood, Georgetown, Georgina, Guelph, Hamilton, Jackson’s Point, Kingston, Kitchener-Waterloo, London, Midland, Mississauga, Oakville, Ottawa, Peterborough, St. Catharines, Southampton, Sudbury, Toronto, Windsor, Woodstock, Halton, Muskoka, Peel, Simcoe, York Region, the GTA, Ontario and beyond.

"The Piano Player" and "A Gathering," two poems by Sandy Martin

The Piano Player

Walking in from the barn, I see him,
his fingers moving over the keys. He touches
sound, places it in my hands. I carry
it from room to room, filling cracks.
Later, I bake apples from the tree
he overpruned last year. They are large
and sweet. He goes outside
to adjust sawblades and carry heavy things.
A note follows him. I swallow it whole.

 

A Gathering

Another noon and still she gathers yarrow. Already
the shed is filled, stems and leaves hanging from timbers
weighted down with her need. I watch from the window.
She peels the bark of the strawberry tree, thin sheets
prayers in her arms. She will bury her grief
in the belly of those red trees, their coppice shoots birthing
over, and over again. She bribes the ravens with burnished nuts,
wishing them white and gone back to Avalon.

I know she will place yarrow leaves over his eyes,
will smudge the dried sprigs around his room, breathe
the last of his own breath. I watch her gathering
what is left of winter, what is left of what she knows.

 ***

Sandy Martin lives in BC on a small island in the Salish Sea between Vancouver and Vancouver Island. She shares her life with her husband, an everchanging number of dogs and two donkeys. She has worked in creative nonfiction, short stories and, her first love, poetry. Sandy is currently working on her first novel.

 See Brian Henry’s schedule here, including online and in-person writing workshops, weekly writing classes, and weekend retreats in Algonquin Park, Alliston, Bolton, Barrie, Brampton, Burlington, Caledon, Collingwood, Georgetown, Georgina, Guelph, Hamilton, Jackson’s Point, Kingston, Kitchener-Waterloo, London, Midland, Mississauga, Oakville, Ottawa, Peterborough, St. Catharines, Southampton, Sudbury, Toronto, Windsor, Woodstock, Halton, Muskoka, Peel, Simcoe, York Region, the GTA, Ontario and beyond.