I am honoured to share this poem, written by Bonnie L. Nish in response to my piece, Awash, hanging at Atelier 8.18 through April 2025 in the abstract/landscape show LALA. The curator, Kyla Bourgh, invited poets to view & react to the art, then held a poetry open mic night for them and anyone else who wanted to participate.

Bonnie dedicated the piece as follows:

For Allan, with love

I have never been to Miller Lake,
that place you all gathered 
as your children outgrew their shoes 
by the end of every summer. 
Campfire songs and leftover marshmellows, 
canoe races and country home meals
became the substances which fed you 
through long winters 
until you could do it all again— 
a summer time for family, 
holy ghost stories 
and God.

I have never been to Miller Lake,
where you sat on a rock 
playing a guitar so badly,
the children begged to do dishes to escape.
Your best friends hurled footballs at you— 
their way of saying, you have other talents we love.
You wore their compliments
a cloak over your broad shoulders
ignored their insults as you threw the ball.
It hit the water 
and louder than anyone,  
you chanted Michigan, Michigan, Michigan. 
A relic from college days 
you never let go of. 
And no one dared to tell you 
that game is over. 

I have never been to Miller Lake,
but I have listened to the stories 
over the phone time and time again.
So-and-so did this, so-and-so did that—
I could hear the love in your voice 
as you held this past close 
while you wrestled 
a lid off a peanut butter jar, 
a leftover that went into your bag by mistake—
or so you claimed,
too many years ago to remember. 
I never questioned the best before date  
because I knew you 
wouldn’t eat your memories. 
You closed it up 
and ordered in instead. 

I have never been to Miller Lake,
but I have imagined the orange haze above the water
bouncing off the shore while you walked around it.
I have heard your stories,
felt their weight,
as you sat at the edge of this dream,
body weary, trying to hold on.
Calling from 3,000 miles away, 
I knew something was wrong,
but didn’t have the heart to tell you
how angry I was when you finally picked up
as relief washed it all away. 
I was too sad to hear the weakness that had taken hold.
Too sad to hold onto anything but your voice.

I have never been to Miller Lake,
but can see you there 
walking out into the middle,
slowly sinking away from me,
from all of us—
because it is time. 
And I know I can’t hold you anymore.
The orange mist takes you,
and though I cry
there is comfort knowing 
that there is peace for you here.

Now I understand—
how it is you built these memories,
a to-go kit for eternity. 
I hope you know,
you will be one of mine. 

Bonnie Nish is the director of Pandora’s Collective, through which the event was organized, as well as the director of Word Vancouver. She has a PhD from UBC’s Faculty of Education, and offers workshops and couseling through Creative Healing.