© 2023 by Ann Young. Proudly created with Wix.com

August 28, 2018

February 3, 2018

I have forgotten more about being cherished than you can hold within your hands.  I have forgotten the exact shape of my grandfather’s fingers, fingers with which he projected shadowed wolves and doves onto a wall, fingers with which he fashioned zigzag teeth for me ou...

December 11, 2017

December 11, 2017

dreaming

since the invention of airplanes

can we no longer dream of flying

since the technological buzz of text in back pocket

can we no longer open letterboxes in anticipation

who remembers the path to the stream

how to draw waters from the well

to check in still-warm straw...

March 18, 2017

Calgary Ink Spot Collective Performance, February 27, 2017

This poem is one of the winners of Wax Poetry and Art contest #13.

March 18, 2017

Excerpt:

The last of the day's colours fade from the sky
and a hush of darkness falls like a cloak upon the earth
Resisting the call and the comfort of bed, I pull on my great overcoat

turning up the collar against the imminent chill
burrowing fingers deep into empty poc...

March 18, 2017

Excerpt:

in an inner city basement
in a moment of distraction
something caught your eye

an abstract thought
an arrangement of colour and form
   sunset, a volcano sky of
crimson and ochre and tawny and black
 
it caught you by surprise
and mesmerized
you stood
won...

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August 28, 2018

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