Walking a fence line north of Chip Lake
Yesterday, walking a fence line north of Chip Lake,I thought I saw my dad standing on a stony rise,like the one in Saskatchewan on the west side of the Riversid...
Author: stephen t berg
My new job as Weed Inspector and the oldest profession
When our eonian parents were flung from that divine garden, the first thing they did was scrabble about in the dirt for things to eat. They soon found that not ...
Marilynne Robinson and a red-tailed hawk – regaining inwardness
From a window where I sit with a coffee and Marilynne Robinson’s “Absence of Mind,” I see a red-tailed hawk making those wide circles that red-tailed hawks make...
On cutting open a poet—Edmonton Poetry Festival
In view of the Edmonton Poetry Festival, here’s a poem for poets and other kinds of surgeons. I read this poem for “Gettin’ Gritty” at Zocalo, but it has change...