A stone under her tongue traps her words, few stumble past. Tiny thunder eggs, dinosaur teeth. She catches them, all palm and graceful fingers, sea anemones enfolding them. Then with flick and snap she cracks them like nuts, and they fountain with a million voices, moist fortune spilling from their oyster shells.
Neile Graham's poetry can be found in her three collections, Blood Memory, Spells For Clear Vision, and Seven Robins, on her spoken word CD, She Says: Poems Selected and New, and, most recently in The Malahat Review, Goblin Fruit, and Liminality. Her work has been nominated for the Rhysling Award and received Canada Council and local arts grants funding. She grew up in British Columbia, but currently lives in Seattle where she is workshop director for Clarion West Writers Workshop.