In the early days of 2023, probably around the New Year when we all scramble to set our intentions, I spoke mine out loud: I wanted poetry back in my life.

After my debut collection, The Pit, was published with Nightwood Editions in 2021, I stopped writing poetry. The few attempts I made felt awkward. I would read over the polished poems in my book and think “How the heck did I do that?” I felt like I’d never be able to do it again.

My focus shifted to fiction as I attempted to write a novel. But poetry was always at the back of my mind. I knew I wanted to return to it but finding my way in felt difficult. I continued pushing it aside, worrying over it, afraid to begin again. In the early days of 2023, probably around the New Year when we all scramble to set our intentions, I spoke mine out loud: I wanted poetry back in my life.

Fast forward to that summer, when the League of Canadian Poets contacted me to offer me a virtual residency, the inaugural spot in their brand-new Poetry Ambassador in Residence program. I read that email over and over, sure they were mistaken. I’d barely published any poems since my book came out! Surely, they had the wrong poet. What could I have to offer anyone? But I talked it over with a now-dear-to-me poet friend, and they told me to go for it, that it was perfect for me. And so, I took a chance, hushed down the clamoring of my imposter syndrome, and accepted the opportunity. I’m so grateful that I did.

Outside of literary circles, most people say they don’t read poetry, don’t understand it, and if you hear enough of that messaging, it can make you wonder why the heck you’re writing it.

Throughout this residency, I’ve been afforded the most precious thing to any writer: time and freedom to create. I’ve spent the winter drafting and revising new poems, finding my curiosity and joy in poetry once again. I’ve been able to let go of the (imagined) pressures of having another manuscript in the pipe and just play on the page, which is what I’ve always loved to do.

More than that, this residency has given me the opportunity to connect with fellow poets all across the country through online readings, drop-in office hours, and workshops. I’ve realized that these connections have also served to feed me not only professionally, but personally as a poet. We all know that writing is a solitary job; writing poetry can feel even more so. Outside of literary circles, most people say they don’t read poetry, don’t understand it, and if you hear enough of that messaging, it can make you wonder why the heck you’re writing it. So, meeting with other poets, talking about our craft, and sharing our passion is cup-filling.

It was in one of these meetings that a poet named Dany asked me something along the lines of “Do you think people even read poetry?” I felt like I stumbled through my answer a bit, but I wanted to come back to it here. I think that poets are always reading poetry, as we should be. And perhaps that’s enough, to be writing for each other. But of course, we want our words to have a further reach; we want our craft to endure; and we want to nurture new poets to that end. When I look around at the world outside of our cozy poet corner, I do see poetry making its way to the masses. Look at the success of a poet like Rupi Kaur. Whether you enjoy her poetics or not, you can’t deny the fact that she’s reached millions of people with her work, creating an entry point for them that they may not have had otherwise. On a high school visit in Whitehorse, Yukon last year, I noticed a whole shelf of young adult novels written in verse, many of them by BIPOC authors. U.S. poet Maggie Smith’s poem “Good Bones” went viral on social media several years ago and is still widely circulated today. Examples like these give me hope that there is a new generation of poets being born and that folks who always thought they “didn’t get” poetry are now seeing it with new eyes.

This highlights for me the importance of organizations like the League of Canadian Poets, and programs like this one, for bringing more poetry into the world. We know poetry isn’t profitable, but it is deeply important to help us explore the human experience. It’s a place for us to connect across distance, culture, and time. I think there’s something powerful about an artistic practice divorced from capitalist goals—if you’re writing poetry, it’s not because you want to get rich. You’re writing poetry first and foremost because you are called to do so. And secondly, you’re writing poetry because you want to connect with others through your words. You want to capture something of your experience and distill it down for others to consider. This is vital work, and we must continue to support it.

Connecting with all of you, hearing your poems, and discussing poetry and the writing life with you, has truly filled this poet’s cup to overflowing.

I’m forever grateful to the League for the chance to turn my focus to poetry so fully these past few months. I’m grateful to all of you who showed up at my readings, my drop-ins, and my workshops. Connecting with all of you, hearing your poems, and discussing poetry and the writing life with you, has truly filled this poet’s cup to overflowing. I look forward to carrying on in these connections and this poetic endeavour, knowing that I’m not alone. My hope is that we can all continue together, creating and sharing new work with each other and the world.

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Tara Borin is a poet and writer living in the traditional territory of the Tr’ondëk Hwëch’in, Dawson City, Yukon. Their debut full-length poetry collection, The Pit, was published by Nightwood Editions in March 2021. Their poetry has been anthologized in the League of Canadian Poets Feminist Caucus in Conversation chapbook (LCP Press, 2022), Resistance: Righteous Rage in the Age of #MeToo (University of Regina Press, 2021), and Best New Poets in Canada 2018 (Quattro Books), as well as published in literary journals both online and in print. Tara is the 2022 winner of the BC and Yukon Book Prizes Borealis Prize: Commissioner of Yukon Award for Literary Contribution.

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