by Louise Carson
Sometimes you just want the heater on and the window open at the same damn time. And solitude. Though you tuck behind a weaving truck, keep him safe as yourself, follow his red square of light winding through patches of mist. Why should you have to justify your desire— every creature’s one inheritance? Naked in, naked out. You move through fog and a clear starred night at the same damn time.
Louise Carson
Louise Carson lives in a bungalow surrounded by gardens. She paid for it by teaching music. Now, she just writes. She’s published three collections of poetry: The Truck Driver Treated for Shock, haiku, Yarrow Press, 2024; Dog Poems, Aeolus House, 2020; and A Clearing, Signature Editions, 2015. She’s been selected for Best Canadian Poetry three times. She also writes mysteries and historical fiction. Her two latest books in these genres are The Cat Looked Back, Signature, 2023; and Third Circle, land/sea press, 2022.
Headlight Anthology 