Canadian artist finds poetry on the battlefront: "August Widow
from across the road, with church and soldiers in their scope,
story is veins and arteries, soft tissue to these black coats
this murder of shiny microphones, video cams
they beak, they claw, they pick at mourner carrion;
gray day, gray day, a brother buried half a world away
from bullet and pomegranate, on this his prairie
where wild flax blues and blooms,
and yellow canola swathed,"
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