From Lake of Two Mountains, published by Brick Books in 2014. Lake of Two Mountains won the 2014 Governor General’s Award for Poetry.
Bobby grew up into a boy. Wrong decade. He left for the War, Second World, returning years later, a box-camera snapshot in hand: foot soldiers, himself and four friends lined up in front of a broken-down fence. Boys drowning in greatcoats. At the cottage Bobby slept in a cot on the screened-in veranda, half in, half out of the house. Old army blanket, and all night the wind off the shore raked his hair. Mornings, he’d sprawl on the wharf or sit in a lawn chair, slathered in baby oil, remembering what? His fiancée married while he was at war. He never did. Later—the house finally his—he glassed in the porch, wintered in his red velvet chair, cradling the snapshot: five soldiers, all boys, in the palm of his hand