And he says he shivered
when I showed him the picture of the poplars hugging
what are the chances
of finding two poplars entwined
for all their tree eternity?
or finding their fossilized coupling
amongst hundreds that grow
in a straight and narrow stretch
to dry prairie sky
I seek the greeting
I hope to hear, as my own voice
curves around you/with you
and people will say: they just grew together
just like that.
he remembered holding their young suckers together
forced them into Siamese growth, just because he could.
forgot them for fifty years
until I found them in the forest
on the margins of the old homestead.
~ Vivian Hansen
Vivian Hansen recently won Legacy Magazine’s first annual poetry contest. Her poetry, essays and non-fiction have been published in several journals and anthologies, including Our Grandmothers, Ourselves and Threshold. Her poetry collection Leylines of My Flesh chronicles the experiences of Danish immigrants to western Canada. Her chapbook, “Angel Alley,” voices the victims of Jack the Ripper. Vivian has also been active in the Calgary Spoken Word Festival.