Poems
for yukon
by Chris Ewart
stained glass red
hints gold
in a button hole
rip a four a.m. sunrise
flash like a water pillow
we swim
your scoops of healthy orange
shine like juice
in a pan
my arms lift
to the squeeze
of wet fingers
in a cradle of sugar
a paint of sweat
spills morning smiles
This poem originally appeared in Canadian Literature #208 (Spring 2011), Prison Writing. (pg. 48)




