Outline of a Hollow Bird: Poems by Evan Holmstrom

As is evidenced by the rich cadre of writers who have found inspiration in the North Cascades, this region is almost eerily conducive to writing. Maybe it’s the short, bright blinks of summer or the fog and rain always promising mystery. And not only writing, but simply reflection on life in its splendor, difficulty, and variety is greatly facilitated by the natural character of this area.

This year as a Naturalist Educator turned Creative Resident I’ve been fortunate to develop a familiarity with the North Cascades. Through teaching we deepen our own relationship to the subject and the particular spirit of learning that we teach 5th grade students here is one of wonder and curiosity. What a convenient way to remind ourselves of that essential inclination. In my instruction I encourage not just creative expression, but creative im-pression as well. That is, I always remind students to be aware of just how much they’re taking in as they go about Mountain School. As a creative person, that causes me to accumulate mountains of inspiration alongside the students.

For my residency I’m finishing a book of poems called Outline of a Hollow Bird. It’s essentially my poetry journal for this year refined into a chapbook. My hunch is that it documents some personal growth and transformation. There is a great trove of wonder just beyond the grasp of our words. As a poet, that provides me with a zesty challenge. My book is intended to begin in the trope of the solitary wilderness poet, flap its wings through transformative moments, and then to bring the reader to something unfamiliar, just beyond logic.

Many thanks to NCI for employing me this year, and granting me a residency. It’s been quite a year. What I’ve accomplished here adds a rich line to the poem of my life.

The following is a piece taken from ‘Outline of a Hollow Bird’.

Unfelt Wind

ash later paradise is drier

so we      brought fruit

              to burn

 

reclaimed bellyaches while standing against    air

flying air carrying bits of new desert

 

   slash the tether       moist promise

   calling us or maybe just you up

   to mix juice with the dust

 

paradise darkening our faces    we sliced

thinly the vitality to keep

pack the hymnals in alongside

 then in that moment

               where             you’re tottering

 

        rocks purple with seawater

    skyline fractures      it runs into you filled

  with a sudden vacancy     your shards falling

     
tide takes them in



out of the gap in the sound

rhythmic blanks

somebody’s eyes crackle    force light

into themselves    battered ribs   battered recollections

               

the beach aches

    aligns itself

       under the whiteness remembering its mandate

 remade this time of sand

 eroding with the hush       hush

 piled on each other visit our old

                    realm in the reeds

   no longer easier on our bodies

   than kelp and foam

  walking as they do

  from old gates in the trees of legged things

  will they see in the sound

robbed of dimension in that way

we carried out rites

to draw their skin to our currents

 

Written by Evan Holmstrom. Title photograph courtesy of Angela Burlile.

About Evan Holmstrom

No stranger to stunning landscapes, Evan Holmstrom has spent time in Alaska (where he is originally from) and Montana before making his way to the North Cascades. His initial arrival placed him in the upper Skagit, where he spent several months at a meditation center. He then joined the North Cascades Institute to work as a Naturalist Educator last spring. A man of innumerable talents, his skill and knowledge greatly contributed to programs like Mountain School, Conferences and Retreats, Base Camp and Family Getaways. You can find a copy of his work, ‘Outline of a Hollow Bird’, in the Wild Ginger Library at the Environmental Learning Center.  

Comments

  1. Saul Weisberg

    Evan — Great images, thanks for sharing. I’d love to hear these in your voice. The space between the words and images is powerful. Many questions: “so we / brought fruit / to burn.” I like “from old gates in the trees of legged things.” — Saul

  2. Setsuo Kubo

    Dear Evan
    It’s been a while, but how are you?
    Our family is doing well. Could you please tell me your father’s email address? Thank you.

    Setsuo Kubo

Leave a Comment