Being a wife of an RCMP officer means moving every few years. This was a poem I wrote to describe my experience when first visiting Malaspina Galleries on Gabriola Island, BC.

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This ocean air smells heady.

The salt scrubs my lungs roughly

But I wouldn’t trade it for the city.

It cleanses and refreshes the soul.

As no other substance on this Earth.

Blow through this ephemeral being,

And purge man’s fleeting but deadly desires.

Mold me as the ocean shapes the rock

Or the wind the Arbutus tree.

I don’t want the straight, hard lines of lumber

But the winding, twisting strength of Madrona’s limbs

Reaching out to embrace the waves just as they were made.

By April Hilland

From: Canada

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