"Crossing Over the Moose": A Finalist in the Northwind Treasury (Mooselook Diner!)

 Crossing Over the Moose 

 by Beth Kanell, 2023

It’s a funny name for a diner. Newcomers

stare around: the sign says Mooselook,

and maybe the back table will show them one.

Antlers! Long legs! Maybe they even cook

 

wild harvests here. If deer meat is venison

and pigs become pork, what do you call—

they scan the menu, but there’s no sign

of butchered moose at all.

 

Tentative, uncertain, they work their way

through blue-plate names, special dishes.

The waitress, bright smile, sparkling stud

at the side of her nose, collects wishes

 

for eggs over easy, a turkey plate with just

a little gravy. Home fries on the side, much

ordered, always piping hot. Pickled beets.

Vermont homestyle with a chef’s touch.

 

Me, I take my usual table, watch the door,

see who’s coming in—I have a hunch

that my two friends may be running late

but they’re on time for noon lunch.

 

With a nod to the window, satisfied,

they note the water view, smile:

It’s the Moose River out there, wide

as the day’s options. Framed in style.

 

Going home after, I cross the bridge

while at the water’s edge a man stands

patient with a fishing rod. I pass; he reels

his line back in, casts, capable hands.

 

People who haven’t lost don’t guess

the way old passions stir and swirl below.

There was a man who kept my heart. He died.

I find him in each new crossing. I think he’d know.

 

View of the Moose, from the Mooselook Diner.

 

Mooselook Diner's Kevin Fontecha, with the published poem.

 

 

AND: If you'd like to get a copy of the book, it's on Amazon here!

Combining Vermont, Love, Loss, and Literary -- It's Been a Big Poetry Month

My short haircut from Dec. 2017, when I didn't know whether breast cancer surgery and treatment might make it too hard to wash and brush my longer (and increasingly silvered) curls.

 

As a person with decades in recovery from alcohol abuse (it's a long time ago now, but I have no intention of picking up a "first drink" even though time has passed), I'm especially impressed with the online literary magazine Anti-Heroin Chic. It's an "anti-drug addiction safe space" where writers can express pain ... and of course, relief. So I'm touched and honored that the winter issue features two of my poems: "From Nails to Screws" reflects part of the journey I've made to set aside my Dad's well-meant but very dangerous instructions for life as a woman. And "In the Very Air" brings you first to Harvey's Lake in Barnet, Vermont, where I finished raising my sons, and then to my front porch "now" -- the place where I can see both the land's beauty and the tragedy of climate change. 

Here's the link to those two poems.

Another online magazine that's become a favorite of mine is Persimmon Tree, which offers space especially to older women writers. You can find my poem "Breast Cancer, 5 Years After," which is pretty fierce -- click here and scroll down quite a ways, browsing other intriguing work along the way.

The winter issue of Persimmon Tree also includes a "likes/dislikes" list of mine, in the fashion launched by Susan Sontag. Because there are a lot of those, they are being rotated day by day, so if you don't see my list when you first click here, take a look at some other time. Or, if you don't have time to visit twice ... here you go, without the attractive graphics of the magazine:

Things I like: hard rain on the roof, new snow, bonfires, fresh cinnamon, pillowcases, signed books, watercolors, chipmunks, Star Wars music, double rainbows, nickels, dark chocolate, globes, rowboats, comb honey, toast.
 
Things I dislike: an empty mailbox, stale mushrooms, herbicides, crumbs in bed, pigs, cheap cheesecake, splinters, garlic before breakfast, collapsed barns, diesel fumes, hammers, nylon petticoats, socks that slide down, malice.

 

**

 

This month also includes publication of "Crossing Over the Moose," as an honorable mention by Raw Earth Ink and therefore included in The 2023 Northwind Treasury, an anthology coming from Alaska. I'll post a photo when my copy arrives!

 

I've also settled into writing about one segment per week for my "story of my life" (aka memoir), on the platform Medium. You should be able to see a few of these chapters when you first visit; after a bit, Medium will ask you to subscribe to the platform. That will give you access to thousands of authors, and you'll recognize many of their names right away -- as well as getting acquainted with rising stars of the literary world.

 

Now I've got to get back to some holiday baking. May your browsing give you a break from your own stresses, and maybe some hope and pleasure as you go.