places for writers … writing workshops – part two
Sometimes the ‘place’ experienced at a writing workshop is the local area, the community where the workshop is held. I wrote this poem in 2014 after a writing workshop at WordSpring in Saint Andrews (New Brunswick) …
~
‘oak leaves and acorns’
~
encounters
~
on a windy night
in Saint Andrews, a toad
out of place, hop-toddies across
the street
~
also, on Prince of Wales, a deer
pauses on the sidewalk, stares
up the hill, and I hesitate
before driving on
~
in the Algonquin, a light
switches on, in the room I know is mine
and a couple huddles on the hotel porch
their attitude more suited to summer
than a night when leaves skip
mottled across the street
~
~
Previously published in ‘writing weekend’, June, 2014, http://www.nichepoetryandprose.wordpress.com
Copyright 2015 Jane Tims
nichepoetryandprose 
Ah, I know nights like that in St. Andrews. You have captured it!
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Graham
June 4, 2015 at 1:34 pm
Hi Graham. Saint Andrews has a feel all its own. Interesting in part because of its proximity to the sea. We go at least once per summer, to shop and go whale watching. Jane
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jane tims
June 4, 2015 at 6:20 pm
Thanks, Jane. We love to go there too, though we go to Grand Manan more often. But not every summer; it is a bit far from here!
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Graham
June 4, 2015 at 6:24 pm
I love the way you describe the simple moments of connection between the natural and human worlds.
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Barbara Rodgers
May 16, 2015 at 2:11 am
Hi Barbara – Thanks. We are so lucky to have these moments, to show us we are part of a complex world! Jane
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jane tims
May 16, 2015 at 10:06 am
As always, I love your combination of information and inspiration. Beautiful drawing and evocative poem. A nice start to my day!
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TextileRanger
May 15, 2015 at 11:22 am
Hi. Thanks! Glad you liked the poem and drawing. Have an awesome day! Jane
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jane tims
May 15, 2015 at 12:58 pm
The sounds in this poem are such fun to read. I went back and read it out loud…the t’s, the d’s, the s’s. I love “hop toddies” and “leaves skip mottled across the street.” A nice touch of mystery with the light going on in your room when you are outside. I like this very much and the drawing of oak leaves as well.
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Carol Steel
May 15, 2015 at 10:54 am
Hi Carol. Thanks for the detailed comment. The poem is the true account of my drive that evening. Lots of small unconnected incidents are memorable to this day. Jane
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jane tims
May 15, 2015 at 1:02 pm