Remembering a conscientious objector
While the second world war blazed, my father farmed a patch of Saskatchewan soil. He was conscripted but found exemption by belonging to a recognised pacifist g...
Month: November 2010
Jackrabbit regard
I’m walking home from All Saints Cathedral and heading across the empty parking lot east of the ArtsHab. I’m moving toward one of the waist-high woo...
Happy are the people who know the festal shout (Psalm 89)
Teach me to shout. Teach me the happy shout of the free. Groans and moans, like ravens, come on their own. And sighing from mourning is too much our daily bread...
Starbucks Log Redux: Words that listen
This morning, in the dark silvery cast of a high flood light and the pulse of yellow lights from passing cars, I talked to Angel. She asked the time. She had a ...