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Ancestral Dance
by
Glen Sorestad


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The violin my grandfather
staunchly called a fiddle
but refused to play for us
held for him some magic link
with the man he was.
Left at home alone when we
were safely distant for the day,
he'd uncase the fiddle,
rosin the bow with trembling fingers.

Caught in the mystery of the past
he delayed death, bowed the fragments
of a life that was always private,
even on a crowded dance floor.

In the gathering silence
of seventy years
with fumbling recall he
became the dance.

From Ancestral Dances (thistledown press, 1979).
Used with the author’s permission.

Purchase a framed print of this poem.

Glen Sorestad is a Canadian poet, fiction writer, editor, publisher, anthologist, and public speaker. Author of over twenty books of poetry and many short stories, his work has appeared in more than sixty anthologies and textbooks. His latest book of poems is Hazards of Eden: Poems of the Southwest(Lamar University Press, 2015) Sorestad served from 2000-2004 as Saskatchewan’s first Poet Laureate and has given public readings of his poetry in every province of Canada, as well as in the U.S. and many parts of Europe. In November of 2010, Glen was inducted into the esteemed Order of Canada for his lifetime of outstanding literary achievement, dedication to his community, and service to his nation. Glen lives in Saskatoon; learn more about him here.

 

 


New comments are closed for now.
dianapoet:
Nice, visual poem
Posted 11/30/2010 10:27 AM
Jo:
I really enjoy your poetry and bought "Leaving Holds Me Here" because I was so inspired by your last poem on YDP. Thank you once again for sharing your poems. Jo
Posted 11/17/2010 08:59 PM


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