Leaves scud / sift / through parc at cross-posts, / like and dissimilar trying to come together. / Through incongruous sight, maybe. / I remembered you at the edge of the intersection, / remarking on passers-by: / a bare shoulder in November. / Wind in broken branches. / Clouds piercing the 90 degree angles / of church steeples they meet. / I remembered: / leaves grafted across / the scattered earth. / Also, lamp posts that drifted across the bulwark of trees. / Nothing was anchored to the earth, at that point, / walking in November, / moths drifting over an open road.
Mary Catherine Shea lives and works in Montreal, where she completed graduate studies in 2016. She also completed a poetry mentorship program with Arc Poetry magazine in 2017. Her fragment poems explore states of mind through experimentation with form and with hybrid poetry/prose genres.