This is one of my favourite poems… and also the slightly weepy goodbye post from your 2015 writer-in-residence.
I Shout Love
I shout love in a blizzard’s
scarf of curling cold,
for my heart’s a furred sharp-toothed thing
that rushes out whimpering
when pain cries the sign writ on it.
I shout love into your pain
when skies crack and fall
like slivers of mirrors,
and rounded fingers, blued as a great rake,
pluck the balled yarn of your brain.
I shout love at petals peeled open
by stern nurse fusion-bomb sun,
terribly like an adhesive bandage,
for love and pain, love and pain
are companions in this age.
~ Milton Acorn
From: I Shout Love and other Poems, ed. James Deahl. Toronto: Aya Press, 1987. p. 23.