Poetry By Bill Howell

Joseph Gage CC



Young Woman on a Windy Night

Her fluid laugh: could be something
you eventually become part of.

But too many tattoos already make
her body seem claimed & explored,

if not entirely adored. Especially that
dolphin on her belly. Coy funkiness 

at the expense of mystery? Or is this
an open invitation to submerge.

The indelible strokes you learn tonight
could turn the tides of your lives. 

At the same time, you both notice
the beckoning weather. Just get up

& go out, make yourselves part of it.
Wherever it may take you lately.

Then the sea waving back at us,
wondering when we’ll return. 

​



Local Smoke

Truly unruly stories spark every nerve & sinew, make history 
new for now. Over & over, these lovely echoes when 
one ear hears earlier than the other. 

What we mean to say without meaning: a hooded mood 
just left hanging. How do you do, anyway? 
How do you do, anyway.

A brown breeze breathing fresh haze into red eyes. And look 
where we sat on the sofa – those dented cushions 
still listening to our latest modifications. 

Not to mention 
this ember bed nestling us
into silence.

​

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Bill Howell recently turned 80. His sixth collection is The Way Things Are at the Moment (Kelsay Books, 2024). He has new work in Arc Poetry Magazine, Canadian Literature, Contemporary Verse 2, Queen's Quarterly, and Stand. Bill was a network producer-director at CBC Radio Drama for three decades. A transplanted Nova Scotian, he lives in Toronto.