Poem of the Week By Olivia LeBlanc
Biography:
Olivia LeBlanc is a Boston-based poet, forager, animal bone collector, and preschool teacher. Her deep love and knowledge of nature shape her work, inspiring poetry that explores the grit of society, the relentless rhythm of nature, and their ties to the human experience—often with gothic undertones.
After sharing her work in online writing communities for three years, Olivia received her first official publication in Steel Jackdaw magazine in 2024 and has more publications forthcoming. Through her poetry, she strives to create a space where readers can explore unspoken thoughts, find connection in shared experiences, and feel liberated from societal pressures.
Backstory:
This poem explores the artist’s mind and the dedication to one’s craft. My father was a musician—a great one at that—and I followed suit. The two of us shared a mutual understanding of the solitude required to delve into the deepest parts of our souls in order to refine our work.
Musician’s Daughter
Bass ricochets off the walls,
the melody of Comfortably Numb
filling our home with melancholic fumes every Sunday evening.
The scent of cigarettes and cellar sneaks past my floorboards,
tucking itself into my bed,
as the words “Check, check, one, two”
whisper their way into my dreams.
We have a humble home,
small enough to force us into noticing each other,
to memorize each movement like a troop of monkeys.
Dad’s a musician, and his taste for art
snuck into my soul like cigarette smoke in my hair.
We share the same thinking face,
bent the knee to our craft.
We understand each other’s
interstellar stares,
can feel the Not now
and reply with
a head nod and a swift exit.
Sometimes I wonder if he’s floating in the same place as me.
I wonder if I’ll see him there one day,
ascending toward the sun
with his favorite guitar swung over his shoulder.
© 2025 Olivia LeBlanc
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