My sister Elizabeth teaches me to ride a bicycle
Always, there was Mrs. Spilchen’s caraganas,ready to hang my forays up for ridicule.And across the street, Mrs. Kreiger’s petunia pots, far enough a...
Category: Poetics
Remember these words?–Wendy Morton
In light of the recent discussion here, I though it may be a good time to post this poem by Wendy Morton. It’s not necessary or appropriate to tie a poem to a c...
The Beaver Hill House Park Case
There was a damp wind blowing up from the North Saskatchewan last night.Sticky, the kind that gets in under your shirt and makes your palms sweatand your finger...
Grief for what you’ve lost – Rumi
To all who have been devastated by the flood: I have no idea how, having lost home, or community, or town, you begin to stitch things back together, weave...