CoCoPoPro: Lisa Martin-deMoor confronts grief in One Crow Sorrow

Today we’re featuring a powerful and insightful collection of poetry by award-winning Edmonton writer and poet Lisa Martin-deMoor called One Crow Sorrow (Brindle & Glass, 2008). These poems delve into grief and loss, but not in the way you’d expect. Here grief is as an extension of love rather than a departure from it. Death is living. Grief is love.

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One crow sorrow
Two crows joy
Three crows a letter
Four crows a boy …

Do you know that one? Today we’re featuring a powerful and insightful collection of poetry by award-winning Edmonton writer and poet Lisa Martin-deMoor called One Crow Sorrow (Brindle & Glass, 2008). These poems delve into grief and loss, but not in the way you’d expect. Here grief is as an extension of love rather than a departure from it. Death is living. Grief is love. It’s Sunday. Stay at home and read this poem. Don’t miss her Q&A below.

Q&A with Lisa Martin-deMoor 

What are you reading right now?
I’m trying very hard not to read anything right now. It’s harder than you might think. I do this every now and then–try to turn down the noise a bit, let the silence I find remind me how to listen.

What’s your must-read literary magazine or website?
Lately I’ve been turning to blogs by a few writers–Obscure CanLit Mama (Carrie Snyder), Pickle Me This (Kerry Clare), and Calm Things (Shawna Lemay).
 
Where is the oddest place in which you have ever written (or been inspired to write) a poem?     
My partner’s a wildlife biologist who studies boreal birds. There used to be (maybe there still is?) a small whiteboard and dry erase marker hanging beside the open-air outhouse at the Beaverhill Bird Observatory where the biologists wrote down 4-letter species codes for birds that flew by–or that they heard–while they were sitting there. Just thinking about that list–and the cold mornings up before sunrise, hot percolator coffee with grounds in it, fingerless wool gloves and toques even though it was June, crashing through dewy aspen saplings to pull songbirds out of mist nets, and that big prairie sky overhead–still makes me want to write a poem.

*****

Lisa Martin-deMoor is an award-winning writer, poet, and editor. One Crow Sorrow won the 2009 Stephan G. Stephansson Award for Poetry. Her work has appeared in a broad range of literary journals and has been broadcast on US and Canadian radio. Lisa is the co-editor of How to Expect What You’re Not Expecting: Stories of Pregnancy, Parenthood and Loss, forthcoming from Touchwood Editions in Fall 2013. Please visit her at www.writerinresidence.ca.

Also, here’s a fantastic interview Lisa did with The New Quarterly about the personal essay.
 

_______*Edited from the original post, published on the LPG blog