More on: Kate Marshall Flaherty

i ———Where did it come from, this call ———to the interior— you will tree plant in BC forests, four hour by chopper from Prince George. The cork boots, belt and shovel bandanas and bungees, tin stove and tarp all packed, the many days drive in an ancient van sealed with shiny hope and duct tape.…

I remember the clouds yesterday— cow-belly low and heavy, pregnant with Irish rain— the way they hugged Quinn Abbey. clouds the colour of stones, shale grey and lichen-shadowed. ———Masses lighter than the ones on that first ———chemo morning, heavy rain sliding ———down the pane, as my son knelt ———beside the shocking yellow puke and bile.…