COMING SOON: The Night Before Snow – Jude Goodwin


A beautiful collection of winter-themed poems

The Night Before Snow

The dark is holding its breath
and folks are bedding down.
They wear socks,
pull up their grandmother’s quilts,
a fire on the hearth coals warmly,
dogs and cats have wrapped
their noses in fur. It’s quieter than any
other time of the year. It is the night
before snow. Light flickers
along our neighbourhood walk
as people look out through their blinds
then withdraw into their dens.
Not yet, not yet, they whisper
and turn down the lamps.
And every random sparkle,
the whisker of a dragon mask,
the twirling of a copper bell,
candlelight on polished oak,
startles us. We’re in training.
Soon we’ll be required to witness
something miraculous, a world
transformed and heaven
brought to earth. We kiss
our babies, light incense,
open our books and wait –
it is the night before snow.  Tomorrow
all will be forgiven.
And there’ll be gifts.

Click here or leave us a comment below to contact us for an advance review copy of
The Night Before Snow

About the Poet

Jude Goodwin’s poems and prose have been published in journals and anthologies including Burnside Review, CV 2, Comstock Review, White Pelican Review, Cider Press Review and Eclectica Magazine. Her poems have won or placed well in the IBPC: New Poetry Voices competition, and have been shortlisted in the CBC Radio Literary Awards.

Jude is a founding member of the Squamish Writers Group and founder and co-editor of The Waters, an online poetry workshop. Recently she founded the Sea to Sky Review, an online literary journal for the BC Lower Mainland and Sea to Sky Corridor. Jude is currently pursuing a degree in Creative Writing with Douglas College, BC, Canada

This is Jude’s first book of poetry.

Don’t miss your advance review copy of Jude’s stunning debut collection

Giving me her breath

We came together in the shadows
like cowl-shaped swamp lanterns
producing enough heat
to melt the snow around our boots.
She was the first to appear
in this unfinished spring,
ready to wrap me as I baked.
A wall of faces watched,
their granite features still cold
with winter. At some point
there would be a crowd
of wellwishers, but this night
just her eyes, the colour of ice
calving in the north. I opened
my mitts to reveal nothing,
but she placed them on her lips
and I’ll remember her like that,
giving me her breath.