Marcia Thériault
traduction du poème de Patrice Desbiens.)

I remember a station wagon cutting through the night
opening up the northern night as a hunting knife
would delve into its prey
We are all there
my mother my sister her husband and their children all
in this car it's
Johnny B. Good Leblanc who's driving his face vaguely
illuminated by the faint lights of the instrument panel
I am the only passenger who's not sleeping as
we travel through an ocean of scarred greenery
on either side
My sister is sleeping on the front seat
the blackness of night entering and escaping from her open mouth
The night is long and without respite
The night is long and without respite
The night is long and without respite
The night is long and without Suddenly
Something fractures the journey something is moving
there and
the windshield becomes a cinemascope screen the lights of Twentieth Century Fox and Gulf Western lighting up
the animal the animal the moose in the middle of the road
stopping
staring at his destiny moving toward him at 60 miles an hour
His eyes his eyes his eyes Oh god his look up to
the last minute and the deafening mute shock of steel against
flesh
And my sister waking up screaming a loud
crazed final scream
as if the soul of the moose had gone into
her in
death and finally
silence
the silence of our silence
in the silence between
Timmins and Toronto.

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