editorial

The students are quiet but attentive as I finish my talk. To introduce

Fiddlehead 137 at least, and for you this issue has some interesting

The large sing read Fiddlehead Magazine: Atlantic Canada's Na-

Magazine editors are often faced by the question, What kind of material do you want?

Roger Ploude and I discussed for some time the idea of an anthology of poems to mark The Fiddlhead's 35th anniversary.

I can hardly ever separate a poem from the circumstances that created it, or the place where it was composed.

Finally forty, too old at last for romantic suicide and the Yale younger Poets series, I discover to my chagrin that what I have for nearly a decade complacently mistaken for a species of interminable cookery discloses itself in the glare of mid-afternoon (so to speak) to be something less than ordinary more decrepitude.

One of my earliest memories is of a white horse in the northern woods.

Being asked to say something about my poetry, I find the impulse to be irresponsible almost completely overpowering.

In this issue we are happy to feature Leigh Faulkner's fine meditative poem, "Boundaries."