Shortlist Saturdays: the day after my dad died by Nancy Daoust

the day after my dad died

i find my way back to the fallen white pine

slide my sad body inside a pelt-soft opening                                                                                    shudder into the diameter’s decay

which nourishes

a throng of blister beetles

scuttling beside their dull white grubs

i inhale fungi pulsing funk

lose my hair to lichen

toes stretch and scratch leftover pith

arms meld into the mosses’ springy damp

butt and back groove pine needle

matchsticks into a moldering pad

an orange spider plucks its way to the tree’s opening

the bark and cambium that’s given way

the sun hits my belly, strokes all the fibers and cells

this is not my coffin, but a remedy—a way to or from

the crematorium’s flagrant heat, the final body of ashes

i find groundwater baptism on the forest floor

i grieve and cool, breathe and cool

Nancy Daoust is primarily a poet, although she also enjoys writing fiction and creative nonfiction. Her writing often explores our relationship with nature and the places we live. It is also influenced by pop culture and music. Nancy is an associate member of The League of Canadian poets, and the treasurer for the Sudbury Writer’s Guild.