George Perreault
ceremony eases past the solstice
until light is calculably brighter
awaking the world’s imbalance
with days growing colder still,
much as summer’s fading sun
heralds the welling heat
a homeless woman now named
as Amber Shaw was found deceased
in a thicket along the frozen river,
smoke or flames, asleep or flailing
in the nylon prison of her tent
this is the day the Donners
began to gnaw their dead,
those names lit up in bronze
like empire or ascending Christ
snow is falling on tawny grass,
the hillsides color like antelope.
we walk our streets for bread
***
George Perreault has worked as a visiting writer throughout the American West. His poetry has appeared in journals and anthologies in the US, Canada, Ireland, Great Britain, and India, and he has been nominated a number of times for both the Pushcart and Best of the Net prizes. Perreault’s poetry has won recognition from such organizations as The Nevada Arts Council, The Washington Poets Association, The International Dancing Poetry Festival, The Helen Steward Poetry Award, The Kay Snow Poetry Award, The Charter Oaks Award, and the initial Golden Fedora Poetry Prize from Noir Nation. He has published four full-length books including, most recently, Bodark Country, a collection of poems in the voices of characters living on the Llano Estacado in West Texas.