Curated by Deirdre Kessler
The world is the world, or what we know of it.
We are in it, with split paper skins, slow sap,
and leaves we will abandon with the season.
Twinned, we are, for our own company.
We multiply; we do not divide.
We lean awkward over the rise towards the spring.
We tunnel beneath the earth towards the same.
We are sanctuary to our self.
—Jane Ledwell from Bird Calls, Island Studies Press, 2016.
PEI poet laureate Deirdre Kessler follows in Judy Gaudet’s three-year tradition of selecting a poem a month by an Island poet for readers of The Buzz.