Words in Motion 2014- Feature Poem of the Day for National Poetry Month

Remembering

When I’m alone

as I am today

I put all your memories

on my face

And look at myself

in the mirror.

Nice smile Mom.

Sharon Cordes Okrasa

Moth in My Coffee

Plummeted from the sky,

tiger moth going down,

                                           down      

                                                       down.

Blotched landing in my last cup

doing the backstroke,

wing dust creaming my morning infusion,

contemplations interrupted.

Who invited you? The rudeness,

the indignities of endings.

Cathy Yard

The Claresholm & District Museum is Looking for an Executive Director

The Claresholm Museum Board along with the Town of Claresholm are seeking a knowledgeable, innovative and highly motivated individual to develop and operate the Claresholm Museum and promote it on all levels. The successful candidate will be an energetic, self motivated and creative person working towards the development of the museum program in all aspects in Claresholm. The successful candidate will have strong interpersonal, teamwork, communication and conflict resolution skills as well as respect for, and the ability to work with, diverse populations.

The pay is $26 per hour for 35 hours per week. 

For more information about this opportunity, please visit the website http://www.claresholmmuseum.com/. All applications should be sent to karine@townofclaresholm.com. 

Words in Motion 2014- National Poetry Month

April is National Poetry Month. Throughout April, the Culture Blog will be showcasing the selected poems from the 2014 Words in Motion program. For more information about the program, visit: www.woodbuffalo.ab.ca/WordsInMotion

Coney Island

The smell is like bitter rubber

or A-B-C gum stamped into the concrete:

the A-Train that takes us to Coney Island.

A woman wraps polka-dot viscose around her face,

eyes shift down to the floor

as her children pass the time with leap frog,

legs slick with a continual bend and snap.

Every freak show has a clown

that looks like a checkerboard,

triangle tears slowly sweating off his face,

paint surely ready to bubble like a fried egg.

Sally does burlesque on the beach,

tassels are glittering against sun-damaged skin

and distract the men on Steeplechase Pier,

who bait their hooks with a bloodworm,

swollen clitella tempts the bluefish that

fill their pails, fins stack up like poker chips.

It is 85 degrees in April, the gulls

are covering the shoal and how odd it is that
a fat brown bottle washed to the shore

is what we can relate to the most.

Sarah Watson