By Mullet River


Sitting noon on a big stone streamside

hard to sit on

thoughts like waters’

white noise over rocks

 

Upstream rust

chipmunk scampers

up a log

 

Across glints a loose, long webthread

a breeze strums

stirred by the broken current

 

Neither a god nor a deity’s

abode nor living creature

however restless nor a person

as maple, chipmunk, or spider

might imaginably be nor mere

element one with its Tao

 

Easy, this way,

to let things be

themselves, the mind

open to fill

with something other

than what

windows or margins frame

 

Easy, for a two-night guest

of the Auberge & Nordic Spa

Beaux Rêves just up the short

well-kept path, a lucky

refugee from the city’s heat,

to think the stream free

of thoughts about it

 

“. . . in a hammock on the riverside path,

surrounded by the sounds of nature

and the rushing majestic river

with its natural whirlpools . . .”

 

Neither like language

like air ripples pools

nor a stream of speech

over stone.

Novice, “Sit-close-

beside-the-head,” attend

the song-maker, intent,

the water in the wordless

murmur.

 

Bryan Sentes is the author of a baker’s dozen of chapbooks and three volumes of poetry. More can be found at bryansentes.com.


Questions and Answers

Is there a specific moment that inspired you to pursue poetry?

Still in high school, I brought some short stories to the then writer-in-residence at my local municipal public library, John Newlove. At one of our meetings, I remarked I didn’t know his work. He reached under his desk to a big box of remaindered copies of his selected poems and handed me one. As I write in another poem:  John Newlove the Regina Public Library’s writer-in-residence gave me his Fatman and reading it in the shade on the white picnic table on the patio in our backyard thought “I can do that!” and wrote my first three poems.

 

As a published writer, what are your tips or words of motivation for the aspiring poet?

“Paw after the ancients” (i.e., learn as much as you possibly can about how human beings have made language into art in all times and places). “Notice what you notice.” In terms of the business of writing, culture the patience, persistence, and insensitivity of a tortoise, but work towards making your own, evergrowing circle.


This poem “By Mullet River” originally appeared in Canadian Literature 256 (2024): 129-130.

Please note that works on the Canadian Literature website may not be the final versions as they appear in the journal, as additional editing may take place between the web and print versions. If you are quoting reviews, articles, and/or poems from the Canadian Literature website, please indicate the date of access.