Before Spring, Montreal

Telephone wires, dark as a line in a schoolboy's notebook against the dawn; paint flakes from houses drifting down like dust; the hulking shadow of a desk that emerges, stock-still as a cow, in the moment of waking. Join poet Robert Melancon for a quiet celebration of his city, its inhabitants, and the language that gives it life.

From "Eden":

"You go forth drunk on
the multitudes, drunk
on everything, while
the lampposts sprinkle
nodding streets with stars."

Robert Melancon, former poetry columnist for "Le Devoir" is a recipient of the Governor General's Award, the Prix Victor-Barbeau, and the Prix Alain-Grandbois.
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