time
all we got is time
snow melts somewhere to my right
on a big hill with captives and captors
they said go slow and mind impatience
i didn’t listen
sure do now
but this is another mountain
or is it a gentle tremor
or a bird singing and im not paying attention
who are you really
what world feels safe
this wave never reaches shore
a song being played over and over in an empty hall
i can see the universe in a pond under rocky bluffs
where spirits move grass between their fingertips
but i can’t see you
alive in the clouds
standing atop a quiet mountain with my eyes closed

* poem, in its entirety, is available in the printed version of the current issue.


Bio:

Sarain Frank Soonias is a Cree/Anishinaabe writer residing in Vancouver. His poetry is inspired by his evolving relationship with (de)colonization, trauma, love, and healing. Poems from his initial collection All Wrong Horses on Fire That Go Away in the Rain have been featured in the Temz Review and will appear in forthcoming issues of Shrapnel, Carousel, and Queen’s Quarterly.