About the Author
I'm a writer from New Brunswick, Canada. I've published two collections of poetry and am now branching out into nonfiction and children's literature.
I've been publishing my work in literary journals since 2005, when my first poems were accepted. After a long and twisty path (the only kind worth walking), my first book was published by Signature Editions in April 2016. Take a look at my publications page if you're interested - a fair bit of my work is online.
I'm always at work on one writing project or another. I'm probably writing something right now. Well - I might be at work. Or out for a walk. Or actively being a mom to two incredible little boys. Or I'm lost in reverie.
I believe in something larger than myself, than all of us, and I am hooked on that mystery. I follow it. It has to be leading somewhere. Poetry and stories, music, art- these are the breadcrumbs, the white stones, the signposts I follow as I go. I also believe in good maps. GPS can get you into trouble - but I still use it. It's usually not a bad thing to be lost for awhile - that's how you learn to find your way. That's when you discover things.
I am of Gaul. Of Sicily and chestnut trees, of outside Montreal.
I am of the left-field, a curveball, changing all who held me
bawling, blessed. Fell from the stars. Maybe. My six sisters weep
in autumn from the shoulder of the bull, trailed by Aldebaran,
urging me home to reignite a darkened star with gaslight. God.
I am of Acadie, a sinking island, Massachusetts, old green deities
and candles to call love back from beyond. I am of the haunted
willows, pewter rings and pentagrams, a mourner of the drowned,
a keeper of arnica root in what is Danvers now. I am of County Donegal.
And I am of the sand upon this sickly shore. I am of the factory slum,
of festivals and feast days, cigarettes and scholarships, ways out.
I am of the forest people, of the shining birches, narrow paths
in autumn, of the patted, patched folkloric, of the fairies, oak and ash,
cluster of hamadryads, of lured, drawn Arianrhod—dashed.