The pinks!
As long as my breath still catches in my throat at a tinge of pink on the western horizon at sunrise—I’m good. I’m really not sure I want to live wi...
As long as my breath still catches in my throat at a tinge of pink on the western horizon at sunrise—I’m good. I’m really not sure I want to live wi...
O how you rose in your chair, pinned me with an aggrieved glare, in front of our grade-two class. Your august flesh pendulous with seriousness, my inner-ducklin...
I’m in my office, the patio at High Street Starbucks. It’s Tuesday, there’s a couple beside me chatting about this year’s Folk Fest, talking i...
Finally, there is no moral tide, that rises on either side. Blood is blood and what is blood in war, but an end to all means to an end. Shed enough of it, and t...