Sincere thanks to Shelley A. Leedhal, 2022 Open Sky – Ekphrastic Writing Adjudicator,
and congratulations to all those chosen for recognition!

Distinguished Award:

Shannon May Craig, Fort St. John, BC – “The Rain Felt Like Sunshine” (Inspired by ‘Little Bee’ by Caily Oldershaw)

Chosen Awards:

1. Aleisha Hendry, Dawson Creek, BC – “Static” (Inspired by Tracy Krauss’s “White Noise”)
2. Barbara Daley, Fort St. John, BC – “Beach Rocks” (Inspired by Eliza Massey Stanford’s “Beach Rocks”)
3. Dori Braun, Pouce Coupe, BC – “Little Bee” (Inspired by Caily Oldershaw’s “Little Bee”)
4. Tony Takacs, Chetwynd, BC – “The Shack” (Inspired by Kim Ans’s “The Shack”)
5. Shannon May Craig, Fort St John, BC – “I’m done” (Inspired by Donna Bozarth’s “I’m Done”)
6. Pamela den Ouden, Fort St John, BC – “Father and Daughter” (Inspired by Kathie Young’s “Father and Daughter”)
7. Norma Rrae, Fort St John, BC – “Choose Your Adventure” (Inspired by Drixx Salvador’s “Serenity”)
8. Katelyn Vandersteen, Fort Nelson, BC – “Untitled (Wolf)” (Inspired by “Untitled (Wolf)” by Ava Gairdner)

Note from Juror:
“It was a pleasure to read the diverse submissions for the Ekphrastic Writing Competition. I’ve chosen “The Rain Felt Like Sunshine” for the Distinguished Award, as it appealed on many levels: the interesting title; the use of alliteration and assonance; the generous use of colour (ideal for Ekphrastic poetry); the lovely idea of “A rain coat travelling/through wind and through ages”; the evocation of mood; the form (written in tercets); and the thematic consistency. There were many fine poems here and I congratulate each of the writers.” – Shelley A. Leedahl, Ladysmith, BC

Distinguished Award Winner

The rain felt like sunshine by Shannon May Craig

The rain felt like sunshine
A darker horizon and
the distance of time,
brightens the sunset of youth.
 
Aged clouds turn to silver,
streaked yellow and bronze,
and the light softens to rose.
 
A rain coat travelling
through wind and through ages.
The thunder replayed as a whisper.
 
The fog rolls away
and our memories with it.
The colours stain brighter than pain.
 
A past dipped in nostalgia
and brush strokes of gold.
The downpour is erased by the sun.

Chosen Award Winner

Static by Aleisha Hendry

Ambient sounds still carry

The background noise still lingers

Silence isn’t truly silent

Birds singing, dogs barking, children laughing

All become part of the static

As it drifts on the wind

A ringing so deep within the mind

Blocking out all the rest

Does it exist if no one else can hear it

Personal profound sound

Rises and falls in unheard tempo

Louder and louder until nothing is left

 

But the never-ending ringing

'White Noise" by Tracy Krauss
'Beach Rocks' by Eliza Massey Stanford

Chosen Award Winner

Beach Rocks by Barbara Daley

The beaches are peopled by pebbles

Each lovely face says “read me”

Every stone has a story to feel

Where I have been ,

What has happened to me

I have tumbled and fallen and cracked

My edges stricken by others

Sometimes excavated and fracked

Sometimes torn from my brothers

The beaches are peopled by pebbles

 

Each stoney face says “read me”

Chosen Award Winner

Little Bee by Dori Braun

 

Across saltwater 

far beyond winter’s hold

rain clouds tug

at a broken sky

 

beneath swoop of shadow

gold of hill

she stands

holding steady

 

the heave and tow 

of a tender heart

'Little Bee' by Caily Oldershaw
'I'm Done' by Donna Bozarth

Chosen Award Winner

I’m done by Shannon May Craig 

I’m coming to terms with it.

It’s been acknowledged… and nearly addressed.

My ivory elephant is outfitted in

shame, humility, and

grief.

 

I tell myself to feel grateful.  Forcing it through,

like a square peg.

But it’s hollow.  It feels false and cold.

It only numbs the regret

of paths worth taking

and decisions I should have made.

 

I label myself as a traitor, and I wait

to be decimated and ground into dust. 

Too tired to pick up the pieces.

My brain fogs and my vision blurs. 

The only thing left to do

is sleep. 

 

 

I’m not sure how long.

 Chosen Award Winner

The Shack by Tony Takacs

   I remember the path as though it were yesterday,

 the smells of autumn, the cool breeze breathing down my neck, 

like a spirit’s fingers tickling me, silent, invisibly.

I’m alarmed at the thought but know it’s just the wind.

      

     At the end of the path it still stands majestic, alone, we called it the shack. The escape from reality,

The place a person could just be whoever.

Free from the judgment and the shackles of society.

So many meals shared during our childhood,

I see mom standing in the window calling us in for dinner.

Dad tinkered in the backyard, so many memories of warm fires, hot meals and board games in the evening.

No technology, no phones, just sleeping bags on the front yard under the stars, lemonade on the front porch.

 

     I snap back to reality, dilapidated, worn out, a dump, words many may use to describe our beloved shack. Long ago sold no longer in the family.

     Wind once again tickling my neck, eerie noise from the creaking shack, beckoning, calling me home. 

 

 

     I see the potential, the worn wood and broken windows a labor of love to restore, maybe it will be ours again.

'The Shack' by Kim Ans
'Father and Daughter' by Kathie Young

Chosen Award Winner

Father and Daughter by Pamela den Ouden

When I was in grade ten a boy named

Mark Petersen asked me if my father was a cowboy—

My father—who rolled his own cigarettes

Pinching the loose tobacco from the can

Spreading and tapping it just so

Rolling the thin paper backwards and forwards

Around the line of loose tobacco

Licking the glued strip first to the left then to the right

Rolling the shape between his thumb and fingers

To seal the brown fibers in the paper 

Then lighting up, his head tilted back

Blowing blue-grey O’s

That rose to the ceiling 

 

My father—who was a cowboy

Out west a century ago

Breaking horses and driving cattle

Showed us kids how to tie half hitches and sheet bends

He’d throw a lasso around us as we stood

Still as fence posts

He taught me to splice two ropes into a thing of beauty

To knit socks and cook chili and stuff a turkey

In his seventies he was still a crack shot—

 

The sweet aroma of gun oil clings to my memories

'Serenity' by Drixx Salvador

Chosen Award Winner

Choose Your Adventure by Mel Mason

1         Serenity.

2         ‘Serenity now’ is the mantra taught in recovery. Move on to 4

3         but that’s not the beginning, so go back one

4         your adventure begins with half a soul

5         the task is to grow

6         mud masks from mother’s womb, but it’s best to end here.

7         Sow seeds of wisdom in your garden of life or skip to 18

8         reap self-esteem, bravery and infinite self-doubts

9         pick a brain food- empathy, honesty or strength. You can’t have all three

10      take note of your inventory- love, compassion, and kindness. Once depleted, you can’t get more

11      move one ahead to select a good, virtuous soul

12      now you’ve been bullied and cry through your mask, back to 7

13      so, you use drugs to numb the pain

14      addiction is a bitch; go back to 3

15      even if you win, you lose; return to 5

16      reward is your whole soul

17      but each line throws you back one

18      and the flowers you’ve tended

19      cause an allergic reaction, renew at 6

 

20      deadhead hope, because truly, you’re still at 14

'Untitled (Wolf)' by Ava Gairdner

Chosen Award Winner

Untitled (Wolf) by Katelyn Vandersteen

 

Desperate for something he didn’t know, couldn’t understand, the wolf chased the rainbow. Running until his feet bled. The pads turned red, and pain lingered when they touched the ground. The rainbow was more important though. Everything else faded away as he ran. An eternal game of chase. As he ran, paws bleeding, the rainbow shed bits of itself the way a wolf sheds its fur. The strands of color fell, landing on the wolf and so the first rainbow wolf was born.