Jude Goodwin, Canadian Poet

Jude Goodwin

She uses the personal to translate the universal.

Remission

The tide will wash up as far as the green rock
and then it won't, the sea birds will drop
their shells, the man on the yacht
will throw back his head and laugh
and though there are pictures of him
in all the albums, he won't know you
tomorrow when he picks up your little girl,
he'll drive away without a word, three years
it's been and he won't say a word
but he will roll down the window
so she can wave goodbye
tossing love from her small white hand
like sea spray

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Like the tide mentioned in the first line, this poem operates by ebb and flow, alternating what will happen with what won't, yes and no, hello and goodbye. Fittingly, the syntax and slow pace are in keeping with that motion, gently tugging back and forth until the final release. Though the ending veers toward sentimentality, it holds back just enough. Aaron Welborn, May 2005

IBPC New Poetry Voices
Third place, May 2005

At the art gallery, a woman

At the art gallery, a woman

The Crying Girl