Bree Switzer ≈ Two Poems


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Eleven at Night in Norway


Tonight the sky changed colours

over and over

and the colours changed places

and shapes in the sky.

Now they are behind the trees

and I am behind the trees.

You might come looking for me here.


But I am not hiding,

just standing, watching

not for the stars of course, for

they will never come out

on this north summer night –

but for the swallows,

who dip and dive, soar and plummet,

and suddenly turn.

The swallows,

and the ever changing colours

of the sky.


The air is cooler now.


The peach colour has spread itself out

like a gentle body

behind the black of the trees.

It will not say good night,

it will just lie down

and become lighter

and bluer,

until there is nothing

but a light blue night.



Good Night Thank You


Moving towards sleep

I light a candle in my room

to make the moving slower

to make the light low enough

to rest by.


Every night

I close my eyes and tell myself

the things I’m grateful for. Or

I tell God.

I do not know who God is

or even if he or she or we exist

yet still, I tell God. I say


Thank you

For the scent of flowers in darkness

as I walked across the yard tonight

For my parents.

For my sister whom I so love, even though it’s hard at times

and I sometimes wonder if she’s judging me

for not laughing when something’s funny

and I wonder if she knows how fucking tired I am, I say


Thank you.

For my ability to stop there

and remember the way she hugs me: solid, warm.

how beautiful her face in evening light.


Thank you

I say

for this last week of working

with a group of children who are no longer children

Singing their way through a play I’m teaching them,

as they drink in the sunshine of their very last days

as this group, with no idea

of how they will look back on this time

full of light and music

and the energy that only fourteen-year-olds have

that love for each another, that excitement for the next open door

those feelings

of I love you, I hate you, good bye, I don’t need you. I say


Thank you for these last few days.

And please,

help me to remember

when they are giggling , shouting, running,

slamming bathroom doors instead of

in place on stage saying their lines

How I love them.


Thank you

I say,

For this place I live in,

where summer seems to never come

then suddenly it’s here, upon us

gobbling us up, embracing us,

the green

the blue

the happy rushing water

soaked in sunshine in early morning.

People always say,

Canada, isn’t it really cold there?

I like to say

Yes, but not always. Sometimes it’s like this:



I say Thank You

that this morning I was full of enough energy to ride

a forty minute bike ride to work and make it in thirty-five

panting and happy at age thirty-five.


Back to that night scent of flowers and the candle I lit in my bedroom –

it’s bedtime.

I say thank you every night to me,

I whisper it to God, I pray it.

Thank you for this life,

Bless my sleep, my waking too,

Good Night.



2 thoughts on “Bree Switzer ≈ Two Poems

  1. David Bowley says:

    I love this poem,it has a simple beauty to it,well done!

  2. Bree Switzer says:

    Thank you David! I appreciate that a lot. 🙂

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