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From the archives

All Over the Map

In riding politics, the only common factor seems to be idiosyncrasy

This Dear Green Place

Our latest last best hope

There Shall Be a Sitting

Canada’s forty-third vote

What I have become through grief

 

A line of spider silk, glinting like a mandolin string

plucked by air. A twang of light.

 

A bag of garnet velvet

wrapped around ashes.

 

A painted cup, leaf of bone

china. The shadow of fingers.

 

Alice Major served as Edmonton’s first poet laureate. Her latest collection is Knife on Snow.

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