A Clearing

A Clearing

Poetry

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About the book

A Clearing is a meditation of the everyday—both the joys and the losses observed in the natural world as they so closely mirror day-to-day human experience. There is a mystical edge to these poems that opens to deeper understanding of simple desire juxtaposed with the hard realities of homelessness, failed relationships, and loss in childbirth. A Clearing, Carson’s first full collection of poetry, alternates between tender, poignant portraits and a sharper, darker voice evoked by difficult life experiences. Seasons are metaphors for loss and hunger, leading readers to larger revelations about aging, violence and global conflict. These poems are short, gritty and provocative, asking the reader to look harder at their own lives and the world around them. With the poems in A Clearing, Carson explores how having the courage to let go of the things that bog us down can lead to a place where sun shines through the shadows.

About the author

Carson, Louise

Born in Montreal and raised in Hudson, Quebec, Louise Carson studied music in Montreal and Toronto, played jazz piano and sang in the chorus of the Canadian Opera Company. Her poems have been published coast to coast as well as in The Best Canadian Poetry 2013. She’s twice been short-listed in FreeFall Magazine ’s annual contest, and her poem “Plastic bucket” won a Manitoba Magazine Award for Prairie Fire. Louise has read her work in the Montreal area, Ottawa, Toronto, Saskatoon and New York City. She lives in rural Quebec, where she gardens, writes, and teaches music. A Clearing is her first collection of poetry.

Excerpt

The fields begin to shield themselves


The fields begin to shield themselves in some
soft metal underfoot as they ripen
into hardness. The air quiets. Except
for Christmas’ three-week hum, traffic thins.
Some life has left the earth, been driven down
and in. The metal spreads its silent hymn
that sings of hardship, night; of frozen beings,
their signals lost; records the broken keen
of almost dogs. They spread out as they run
for meat. Under the trees their lines bisect
the rabbits’ shorter curves. Life joins life:
gray fur, brown fur, metallic scent of blood.

Reviews

American poet T. S. Eliot once famously wrote “April is the cruelest month.” By way of contrast, the Academy of American Poets and the League of Canadian Poets, choosing to infuse Eliot’s harsh pronouncement with a soupçon of mercy, instead… >>

— Bill Young Montreal Gazette

In these difficult, divisive, often overwhelming times, all of us crave a clear, quiet space, where, as Louise Carson’s title poem would have it,

… the old can sit, the children play,

where the… >>

— Brian Campbell Montreal Serai

The title poem is a visceral composition of the old and new, while other work displays her adept use of the pattern or picture poem, as well as artwork and music. Throughout the collection the persona of the poet explores… >>

— Anne Burke Feminist Caucus

American poet T. S. Eliot once famously wrote “April is the cruelest month.” By way of contrast, the Academy of American Poets and the League of Canadian Poets, choosing to infuse Eliot’s harsh pronouncement with a soupçon of mercy, instead… >>

— Bill Young Montreal Gazette


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