Moon-Witted, Moon Wilted

Moon-Witted, Moon Wilted

As gravity softens skin’s tender folds, all grows tentative. Questions 
 come knocking, demanding solar eloquence. 
 Stutter-speech answers the door. Porch light’s dim. Who’s there? 
 Who’s really there? This stands sweating on splintered threshold, That 
 in...
Lopsided Moon In The Jaws of Perfection

Lopsided Moon In The Jaws of Perfection

She hangs like a crooked brooch in a perfect, sable sky. Your fingers itch to straighten her, just so — a little more to the left, a little higher in the upper right-hand corner. Yes. But then, there’s her disappointing light, that shade of curdled cream, so...

Poets are the soul-keepers of our world

Reading this poem, by Czeslaw Milosz, I’m filled with gratitude for his exquisite voice, for his wisdom and vision, and the devotion with which he served what he loved throughout his long, working life. Poets are the soul-keepers of our world, and he was one of...
Round

Round

She won’t be held in pants with tightly buttoned waists, their tailored creases knifing into glittering conversations. She won’t enter the clamorous avenues of your angular world. Her roundness deflects your demands. She will not offer you mirrored...
Tender Mercies

Tender Mercies

On this day of renewal, when we celebrate the miracle of life emerging from broken ground — I offer you the tenderness of this poem by George McWhirter. May you savour, with a joyful heart, “the roughest, dearest sugar of the fruit.” ON PANCAKE...

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