
Not the music.
It is this other thing
I keep from all of them
that matters, inviolable.
I scratch in my journals,
a mouse rummaging through cupboards,
nibbling on a crust of bread, apple skins,
chewing the edges of photographs, the small
details of a life. I hoard and save,
place one thing inside another
inside the next.
Start with the prairie, then Horizon
and inside it our house,
the kitchen, the table where I sit
with my journal, and inside it
everything I write – dust, moths,
wind speaking in whispers
across the page,
the absence of rain,
forgiveness –
everything shrinking
to the smallest
thinnest letter,
I.
"Not the Music" from THE BLUE HOUR OF THE DAY: SELECTED POEMS by Lorna Crozier, Copyright © 2007 Lorna Crozier. Reprinted by permission of McClelland & Stewart, a division of Penguin Random House Canada Limited. All rights reserved.
Any third party use of this material, outside of this publication, is prohibited. Interested parties must apply directly to Penguin Random House Canada Limited for permission.