MONDAY: Dig Deeper


Dianne Korchynski considers herself fortunate to be from Winnipeg. Copyright rests with the author.

I planted the bulbs
For spring — dig deeper
A bizarre act of faith — buried alive
These hairy rocks,  those paper
Thin skinned creatures,
Some with green life
Begging/beginning to spring
Buried alive deep in the dark soil
Looking nothing
Nothing like the bright coloured crimson
And yellow petals shown
on the glossy labels.

Dutch Masters and Double
Little Red Riding Hood
Buried so deep
That the squirrels aren’t even curious
Do not suspect a thing
And even I, especially I,
Am suspicious —
How on earth will you ever
Find the surface again?

So, shall we bury ourselves
impossibly deep this November,
six to eight inches apart
my pachyderm skin sprouting
unladylike whiskers,
your smooth brown round nut head
and hope to emerge,
come spring,
As little Red Riding Hood’s
Grandmother on the arm of an aging Dutch master?

And hope to emerge
At all.


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