Tuesday, August 11, 2009


photography by Joel Clements

Toubadours --
lyrical lines of airborne comrads
inhabiting space between sea and sky.
Harmony in form and function

yet, mammoth and undeniable,
like heat-seeking missiles --
transcending watery depths
and drawing up fish.

Lesley-Anne Evans
July 2009

Monday, August 10, 2009

Old growth

Driving through I couldn't help but notice
how the forest flourished,
to the very edge of the asphalt.

As if, at any moment
the deer ferns might grow legs,
tumble down the loamy banks
and run, unhindered, with long lost cousins

on the other side.

As if the Sitkas waited, breath held,
for our transient passing
only to close in upon themselves
in an ancient prayer circle, and

again offer up forgiveness for our misguided intrusions.

Lesley-Anne Evans
July 2009


photography by Claire Evans

You waited, didn't you…
until the last evening
as the sun was kissing clouds
like pink candy floss at the horizon.

I wasn't expecting you
and so, all the more sweet.
Your breath erupted and hung above the deep
and my heart sang out … whale…

Lesley-Anne Evans
July 2009

My Grace Notes Fan Box

Lesley-Anne Evans on Facebook