Blank Canvas by Merrill Edlund

I wanted to render the landscape
as easily as rotating a kaleidoscope.
Amass arbitrary patterns: sprinkle in
the changing seasons with a brush stroke. Blue
intersected by ginger leaves. Stipples of unruffled winds exhaling
smidges of pine scents. And below, paint broad strokes of barren beaches where
young lovers might have lolled, wrapped in Cowichan knit sweaters serenaded
by James Taylor singingyou’ve got a friend.
I should not have used black paint: I got carried away
with small arrow shapes that started out as a flock of geese cloaking

the entire sky,
shrouded the sand
like a murder of crows. Until

it was one immense black hole
I fell
seized my arm on the downward spiral,
don’t cut off your ear yet      you said



Merrill Edlund’s writing has appeared in Blue Skies Poetry, Worth
Architectural Magazine, Crazy Pineapple Press, Fieldstone Review, Four Ties
Lit Review, Spring vol viii, Misfitmagazine, Sugar Mule Literary Magazine
and Joy, Interrupted an anthology on motherhood and loss. She teaches
English and Creative Writing online in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, Canada.