Poetry By Steph Percival

Adrian Scottow CC




A Palmful of Blueberries

I sit on the porch palming blueberries,
a freshly picked jumble of everything
good and true: nature provides
and we must cultivate her with care
and a view to sharing her bounty. 

I extend my palm to my son, wishing
this simple offering could stretch 
the breadth of the world, ease the hurt
and hunger, wishing as a species
we could learn to lob blueberries 
instead of bombs, to give graciously, 
rather than hoard the gifts of this earth.

​



Beachcombing at Anchorage

Once I found a crab shell, jewel 
encrusted with barnacles, kissed 
fuchsia by seaweed. Mesmerized
by dusty pinks and mauves, 
Tamatoa’s shell no longer seemed
far-fetched. 

My imagination leapt, carried 
away on the chill whipping wind, 
into a world where crabs rule 
over treasure hoards, dazzling 
overlords studding their shells 
with glittering ocean stardust.

We share so much in common--
insignificance
impermanence
the desire to get trussed up 
in our fleeting moments so that
even in death there is beauty in our remnants.

​


Steph Percival is an Atlantic Canadian poet, mama, and sheepadoodle walker. Her work has been published by Central Avenue, Gather, Quillkeeper's Press, Cozy Ink Press, and SAPP Zine and she has work forthcoming in several anthologies. You can find her poetry on Instagram at @thismanywords. ​