Lemon Came in the Night
dreaming in a borrowed beda woman made of primary colourswoke me like a victory undeclaredshe led me to a garden, squeezed lemon juiceall over my body, sticking rinds in my mouthstold me to suck it all in—my girl, you are citrus
“Lemon Came in the Night” from LUNAR TIDES: by Shannon Webb-Campbell.
Published by Book*hug Press on April 5, 2022.
Copyright © 2022 by Shannon Webb-Campbell.
All rights reserved.
Reproduced by Poetry Daily with permission.
Shannon Webb–Campbell is a member of Qalipu Mi’kmaq First Nation. Her books include: Still No Word (Breakwater 2015), I Am A Body of Land (Book*hug 2019), and Lunar Tides (Book*hug 2022). She is a doctoral candidate at the University of New Brunswick in the Department of English, and the editor of Visual Arts News Magazine.
“In Lunar Tides, Shannon Webb-Campbell exposes a heart that’s broken but also carried across the gulf between the moon and the sea, a heart that knows how 'grief takes up with the body.' She shows us that grief is tidal, its ebb and flow pulsing like the moon and dog-earring our memories. This book reminds us that, grieving or not, we 'need to be held by something other than a theory.'”
—Douglas Walbourne-Gough, author of Crow Gulch
“There is an arc of light in Shannon Webb-Campbell’s Lunar Tides that passes through a mother’s death, a poet’s birth, and the moon in orbit over the Atlantic. These are poetics of nature told from the lip of Eastern Canada where a desire to know reveals a desire to remember. ‘Life becomes a quest of origin,’ the poet tells us. And in this way, we are shown how even grief can be transformed.”
—Tawhida Tanya Evanson, author of Book of Wings
“Lunar Tides is both expansive and exacting, inviting us to feel our own relationship to the ocean, belonging and mortality.”
—Shalan Joudry, author of Walking Ground