Published May 15th, 2025
Vancouver Poetry Contest #4 – First Place
by Stephe Po
I am sitting across from you
At a table sanded and smoothed
with my hands, dried and calloused
From working at the docks.
I drive boats for a living
Catching fish to scale and gut
On the slabs of twisted juniper where you talk
to the baby.
It keeps raining on Wednesdays
when I mean to mail out those letters
to your sister and my sister
Asking, do they want to come by for dinner in a month?
To prepare
on your knees you paint
the porch steps some shade of green
from a yellowed CD I might have mentioned once.
In fifteen minutes there is you
and bread, eggs, and pop on the table
Along with the day's catch
which is really just you again.
Will the trains stop service tomorrow?
like it did three winters ago when you were twenty-nine
and back when I was twenty-two
on the 15, instead, imagining
A table sanded and smoothed
with hands so dried and calloused
for two placemats, two plates, two glasses
set by you.
In this wooden image I'll wonder
what you are thinking
When the water boils on the stove and I have to try
to hold the baby, a girl, while I chew
On the thought that our lives
could be built
using orange slabs of twisted juniper
and a simple offer
From me to you
across this table of time.
About the Poet
Stephe Po resides in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada.
Read the poet's biography on Stephe Po's Artist Page.
This poem is also featured in Wax Poetry and Art Magazine #7,
published in the Wax Poetry and Art Library.
Previously published in Vancouver Poetry Magazine:
World, Immediate
by Pearl M. B. Meredith
Vancouver Poetry Magazine is part of the Wax Poetry and Art Network.
- Visit the main Wax Poetry and Art Submissions Page to see all opportunities.
- Visit the Wax Poetry and Art Library.
- This website and all contents ©Kirk Ramdath and specified artists.
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