Old man winter’s got a gap-toothed scowl on his stubbled
crag. He spits blizzards like Copenhagen chew, expectorates
Nor’easters in autumn’s brass spittoon.
Summer’s child isn’t welcome here. These river bones ache,
a prehistoric fang embedded in the meat of me. I’m cold-packed
and hung. Whaler’s hook jailed. A seasoning of snow.
Published online March 01, 2016
Paula Jane Remlinger has been published in Grain Magazine, The New Quarterly, Spring and The Fieldstone Review, as well as a number of anthologies. She holds an MA from the University of Saskatchewan and is a graduate of UBC’s MFA program. Currently, she writes and edits on a freelance basis from her home in Beaver Creek, Saskatchewan.
