Christine Walde: Two Poems

BLACK ELECTRICITY Is this where it started for you From here the sudden shocks Hooks pulled back to reveal The onyx-furred tunnel Her voice calling out your nature Silent among the pines & that spiked head of some heaven Starry that cradled you Over the water & made you want Her body lightning You divined in the dark Necessary as voltage Again & again for years Looking for ground     MODERN CAMPING FOR MODERN WOMEN adapted from Better Homes and Gardens’ "Family Camping" The lady of the tent needn't worry: crawling things will finally be kept out. With the technology of the new little house on wheels, the fun that waits in a wilderness follows no definite planned pattern. Just think: with all the small helpers designed to delight like camp stoves and ice chests there's no more dizzy spells blowing up air mattresses! Next to the cave, the tent can transcend the nomadic age- old form of shelter, spacious nylon dividing rooms and flashlights that give you more family time! Never mind the honest-to-goodness bear who might ramble by in search of an after-dark handout. Canvas units come fitted with unbreakable mirrors & several pockets for your toilet articles. Though for your guidance: when it comes to fire building run your hands through the wet ashes to make certain the fire is really out. Be sure the last spark is dead.     Christine Walde's poetry has previously appeared in The Antigonish Review, Carousel, The Fiddlehead, The Rusty Toque and Vallum, with upcoming work in The Malahat Review. She is the author of the chapbook The Black Car (Baseline Press, 2011) and two literary novels for young adults, The Candy Darlings (Penguin, 2008) and Burning from the Inside (DCB, 2013). The two poems included here are part of a larger collection that explores the camping trip Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes took through northern Ontario in 1959. She lives in Victoria, BC where she works as an academic librarian.