In 2019, the St. Marys Station Gallery (in St. Marys, Ontario) published a book combining poems from the Poetry Circle and photographs from the Photography Club.
Poets were given a unique photo to write about. Evan chose a photo of the old Opera House, taken by photographer Becky Turner. Below is the poem. If you'd like to know more about the project, and to purchase a copy of the book, visit:
© St. Marys Station Gallery . 2019
We Used To Be Your Windows
We used to hold aching butts tightly,
thighs inching lower off the ledge, ever so slightly.
Every “mmm hmm” came with a push of the hand to get back higher.
Curious eyes came looking for approval to play
or to see if the coast was clear to run away.
The children played close to us and we were the alarm for newspaper fathers.
If you could hear the wind, you knew the damn kids had left the yard.
So the mothers herded their hooligans and their rocks destined for passing cars.
In dreams of speeches in underwear, we added cooling winds of the night.
The women passed cocktails through us
and the men gazed lovingly at something so delicious.
With evening debates, embers from the fire
never made it through us or to grandmother’s White Jasmine.
We used to steady happy butts and calm fears for fathers.
We used to escort drinks from kitchens and keep everyone dry and warm.
We used to cool the kids during dragon-filled dreams.
We used to harbour the reflection of summer nights
where the music and love flowed through your hearts in the courtyard.
We used to be your windows.
© Evan Phoenix . 2019