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27th Governor General of Canada (2012)
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(Canadian Forces Artist Program)
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Barbara Bailey


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Are You Being Served? small 2005
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Tim Hortons III
Acrylic and silver leaf on canvas, 30 x 30 inches, 2009

Three circles of safety


by Sandra Renew, 2014
School of Music poet, Canberra, Australia
in response to Tim Hortons III


In southern Afghanistan, if you look for it,
you can find three circles of safety –
the walled gardens of local homes
the cleared areas of villages where the Taliban are excluded,
and the military hospital.

The NATO military cordon of edgy soldiers
patrols the water channels,
encircles a group of villages, some cultivation,
the beaten track is free of mines
and every donkey is not automatically a bomb suspect.

The military cordon allows security
for a season cycle of crop and harvest,
where reconstruction is more than theoretical
and hearts and minds are won and lost
in the uncertainties of night letters,
scrawled warnings against consorting with the West
posted in darkness on compound gates and walls by
silent visitors.

The reinforced perimeter wire
secures the hospital,
and access gates are watched by soldiers
with faces muffled against the desert wind and running sand.

In hospital beds, with sheets and blankets of medical blue,
a fighter in civilian clothes of indeterminate allegiance,
NATO soldiers with shrapnel wounds
and a local child encased in splints and plaster,
share a respite from the war.

The compound wall of rough, sun-baked clay
holds a garden, a tiny, reedy soak
shaded and protected from the abrading sand
and wind so hot it burns the throat
and stops the breath.

This enclave nurtures pomegranates and a family of doves
where tea and nuts and figs and sweet raisins are served
under the arching pergola of grapevine
and soft conversation.

Maple leaf stars

by Hazel Hall, 2014
Poet in Residence, School of Music, Canberra, Australia
in response to Tim Hortons III

jet-lagged after thirteen hours
three sugars in a Horton’s grande
caffeinated stars

know that scent – colour and foam
to drink with poutine – sweet taste of my soul
sending me home

as I sip the adrenalin hit
soothes me till I think of them
bandaged – missing bits

head says you can’t take much more
heart says take no notice
you’re needed in this war

when it’s done I’ll be taking off
flying far from this war-weary place
to maple-leaf stars …