Jul/Aug 2023  •   Poetry

e c l e c t i c a
s p e c i a l   f e a t u r e


In an ongoing series, the editors, former contributors, and readers of Eclectica have been invited to write a poem containing four pre-chosen words. The words for this issue are park, sugar, storm, and river.

If you would like to participate in the next special poetry assignment, the new words are saw, deserve, grass, and heavy.

(These are excerpts—click on the title to view the whole piece!)


Instead of rivers there was a dry creek
bed or two, seasonal or occasional

Rebecca Dempsey

After dinner, can you tell me about

What did your mother grow in her garden? Red radishes.

Maggie Fulmer

Hurricane Fiona, N.S.

The live ones—nobody wants the dead, but,
really, this applies to them too—are just
accidental scatterings

Jennifer Dunn

Mackenzie River

honey, you are handsome,
with skin the depth of mountains
and hair imperfect like the Mackenzie River

Alison McFarlane

And I am hungry

The wind washes loose leaves away
like the sleeves of my dress
after a long service

Susanna Skelton

Storm Tamer

When the rain came, the river became an ocean,
trailers stood in the water, like herons on one leg

Santana Shorty

When you manage a city's natural resources

Try to ignore the honeysuckle,
but you'll give up.
It crowds you, dense and tangled.

Rosalie Hendon