Al Purdy on tv

surprised that an A-frame in Ameliasburgh

                                                  still stands

         after a half century serving as a fire-pit

sending sparks and shards of poetic flame

                                           over the lake

 and into the frozen bush

                            Purdy’s hearth welcomed

seasoned and sprouting emulators

                                 to his life-craft

and to his fridge

                         disheveled in a tweed suit

in front of the television camera,

                          hoping to meet

Adrienne Clarkson for coffee

                                       in the afterlife

discomfited by babies

                      father to two sons

in a public-private dichotomy

                          of full disclosure

and dark secrecy

                  kept alive by a foresighted wife

        and her land-purchases

                           with each award he received

         he nailed a single

shingle of wisdom into the leaky roof

                         of the minds of millions

with “all those people building skyscrapers and bombs

                           are wasting their lives”