Diana Stokes spends her time between Crowsnest Pass in Alberta and Crawford Bay in British Columbia.

Her writing appears frequently in trade publications, literary journals magazines and anthologies.

Publishing credits include Tower Poetry, Black Moss Press and FreeFall Magazine. Diana, an award winning poet, is a member of the League of Canadian Poets, Writers Guild of Alberta and Federation of BC Writers. Both the founder & chair of Crowsnest Writers and a former director for the WGA. Diana is currently working on her manuscript.

The following poem appears in The Alexander Reader. The collection, published by the Alexandra Writers' Centre of Calgary celebrates the 25th anniversary of that society. The non-profit group provides courses and mentorship for beginning and emerging writers. Diana has been a member of this organization for over a decade.

 
 
Of sentimental value

I think of him walking across sand
barefoot, perhaps a hikingstick
carved from wood drift in his left hand
his stride long and relaxed, like yours
perhaps a stray dog at his side,
he sees the porcelain edge of shell
amongst the debris left by springtide

Yes, I think your father found it
in an exotic place, far from home
perhaps he saw it on a remote
shoreline along a sun rimmed bay
in Tahiti or the Easter Islands ...
I think of him in cut-offs, skin tanned
thighs sinuous, like yours
he smells of coconut or swordfish
and perhaps he daydreams - shipwrecked
like Robinson Crusoe far away  
and that he’ll take a Polynesian bride
perhaps write a note, place it in a bottle
say words you long to hear

You have the shell your father found
alabaster pink with mottled veins
calcite imperfections along the round
cone, this shell is one that could not
be sheltered among inlets of the Sunshine
Coast nor to the east, much further east
in New Brunswick,  it could not have washed
ashore on a stretch of Beresford Beach

The shell your father found sits on the floor
in the downstairs bath, the one we seldom use
once I found the charcoal remains of a spider
inside the concentric circles, and I wondered
if a house spider can lose its skin like a snake
 
                  perhaps, the way a son may forfeit a father

 

DianaStokes

 

"The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science."
--- Albert Einstein