Blue ice, Lake Wonish, 1935 by Greg Santos

after the painting by Canadian painter Anne Savage (1896-1971)   The fog has befuddled this February day. Silent save my footsteps, bird laughter, wind. Turning to peek at our family cottage it is all but dwarfed by trees and new snow. Today all looks blue and peculiar. Jack Frost, a … [click for more]

#NPM19: Weekly Round-Up | WEEK THREE

Overwhelmed by all the amazing National Poetry Month content coming out every day? Need a refresher? We’ll be rounding up our blog content, along with the awesome stuff our friends at Read Local BC, Open Book, All Lit Up, 49th Shelf, and CBC Books are releasing – plus other NPM news that catches our eye each week; all … [click for more]

A frost crusted poplar by David Yerex Williamson

Following the erosion of cracked imagery on crooked page I snowshoed to the mouth of the river past the crisp site the fox patrols past the comfort of language past the abandoned trading post no words bouncing sounds through sites of empty names still air through tamarack blank drifts between … [click for more]

Sisters by Kate Marshall Flaherty

shush like nurses leaf-breeze shimmering, undersides silver-green. I feel your gnarled roots fingering deep into earth, as grounded as I wish to be.   .                Sisters, you who tickle .                heaven with slender tips, .      … [click for more]

Populus tremuloides by Al Rempel

where forest meets meadow there’s a stand of thin trembling aspen like a dowel shop squeezed between city businesses on the one hundred block and run by a mustached man who whispers to himself on and off at the cash register and sometimes leans out over the sidewalk and says … [click for more]

BIPOC Writers Connect: Mentorship, Networking, Training

We’re excited to be partnering with The Writers’ Union of Canada and the Ontario Arts Council to present BIPOC Writers Connect: Mentorship, Networking, Training, a half-day conference for Black, Indigenous, and racialized emerging writers on October 30, 2019. This conference is a chance to connect with industry professionals, funding officers, … [click for more]

#NPM19: Fresh Voices 16

Welcome to the sixteenth edition of Fresh Voices, a project from and for the League’s associate members. The League’s associate members are talented poets who are writing and publishing poetry on their way to becoming established professional poets in the Canadian literary community. We are excited to be taking this opportunity … [click for more]

Survival by Joan Conway

(For Noreen) the first cabin she built in the clearing where a cottonwood grew. chain sawed the trunk below earth’s level, covered it with soil and poured cement years later the floor cracked, out popped a small seedling she watered it, watched its courageous search for light. it did not … [click for more]

#NPM19: Weekly Round-Up | WEEK TWO

Overwhelmed by all the amazing National Poetry Month content coming out every day? Need a refresher? We’ll be rounding up our blog content, along with the awesome stuff our friends at Read Local BC, Open Book, All Lit Up, 49th Shelf, and CBC Books are releasing – plus other NPM news that catches our eye each week; … [click for more]

Next lifetime by Magie Dominic

In my next lifetime I will be a tree;  someone else can be the birds. I will be a branch holding birds,  an abundance of them; the tree old people lean against when they need to stop all their walking, where lovers carve words on a summer evening when they … [click for more]

Tree by Luciano Iacobelli

to me they were just tall blanks remote giants impassive as Nature itself I could never understand the big deal why so many fairy tales and art about so much leaf and bark but it was love that first made me really look at trees I’d come home from school … [click for more]

Review: Little Red | By Kerry Gilbert

Mother Tongue Publishing | 2019 | $19.95 | Purchase online Reviewed by Bill Arnott   Grey. That was the day. Like most November days in Vernon, BC. Bundling against cold, I made my way from Sveva Caetani’s pleasantly haunted mansion across a downtown where I lived, worked, and grew up … [click for more]

Late October woods by Glen Sorestad

I love autumn aspen woods – the clinging pungence .                                      of fallen leaves, a sudden sense of antiquity gathering in the nostrils like musty cellar memories, a constant reminder .      … [click for more]

#NPM19: The Griffin Poetry Prize Shortlist Announcement

  The reveal of the Griffin Poetry Prize shortlist is a significant date on the calendars of all those interested in Canadian poetry; it is the world’s largest prize for a first edition single collection of poetry written in English. Candidates are shortlisted in two categories: Canadian and International. The shortlist was released today, April … [click for more]

Decision tree by Monica Kidd

Take the candle to the woods. Place it at the foot of the tree bent ninety degrees by some previous insult and sheer bloody-mindedness. Hang the towel on the fence. Undress, never mind the westerly. Clouds are over the moon and there is all the time in the world. Open … [click for more]

Marks by Brian Henderson

Within a steep or stretched charm Slight variation circulates Going underground at the sigil Of the future aspen colonies That can be thousands of years old Though human-spanned trees but Not quite so fast the end all of each singularity Burst catkin departure Of a loved one as if Clouds … [click for more]

The banyan tree by Cheryl Antao-Xavier

Four generations nestled in arms like sturdy pillars. Nature’s hand had soared wildly creating a mammoth masterpiece. A powerful patriarch, the giant banyan tree. One by one its siblings fell to make way for urban sprawl. The banyan tree was the last to go, defiant spectre to the end. They … [click for more]

#NPM19: Weekly Round-Up | WEEK ONE

  Overwhelmed by all the amazing National Poetry Month content coming out every day? Need a refresher? We’ll be rounding up our blog content, along with the awesome stuff our friends at Open Book, All Lit Up, 49th Shelf, and CBC Books are releasing – plus other NPM news that catches our eye each week; all month … [click for more]

Wind in Killarney Provincial Park by Roger Nash

There’s no bird-song in the forest at noon, only the whisper of leaves in the wind. It’s like hearing a huge crowd shouting, far off, indistinctly, that something is happening, but no victors or vanquished, and we’re all in some “this” together. Standing still, the murmur of light and shade … [click for more]

three haiku by Nane Couzier

éclaircie soudaine l’érable creux affalé sur les épinettes ❦ album de famille les deux mêmes marronniers depuis 1900 ❦ grand pin maritime sa silhouette tortueuse incrustée en moi   Copyright © Nane Couzier. Originally published in Heartwood: Poems for the Love of Trees (League of Canadian Poets, 2018).   – Née … [click for more]

#NPM19: What does poetry mean to you?

April is our favourite time of year because everyone is talking about poetry! We are incredibly proud of and humbled by the role we play in supporting and amplifying the voices of Canada’s incredible poets and their contributions to the Canadian – and global – poetry community. Poetry does so … [click for more]

#NPM19: 10 Ways to Support your Favourite Poets

At the League, we work hard to support poets by administering programs and funds for governments and private donors and encouraging an appreciative readership and audience for poetry through educational partnerships and presentations to diverse groups. As the recognized voice of Canadian poets, we represent their concerns to governments, publishers, and the … [click for more]

PIYP Day 2019: Sarah Yi-Mei Tsiang

  Visit by Sarah Yi-Mei Tsiang   I saw my father yesterday, sitting on the wall of his mausoleum. He held my hand and told me he forgave me and I asked, for what?   He smelled of apples, an autumn of leaves for skin. I remember you like this, I … [click for more]

PIYP Day 2019: Eleonore Schönmaier

  “it didn’t happen here” by Eleonore Schönmaier   i‘m in the bus which is really just an old car  and it‘s night and pouring rain and i‘m thirteen and the car is jammed with bodies and we‘re about to head down the long dirt road out to my settlement and the driver shouts, don’t let the drunk indian in, shouts to close  the door and i slam the door shut and blood runs down the  window and … [click for more]

PIYP Day 2019: Harry Posner

  Still be still be still be by Harry Posner   Still be still be still be Calm or calm or calm or Pla cid oh pla cid oh pla cid oh Re lax re lax re lax re Ding for pleasure Ding for dinner Ring for treasure The pleasure of your Company your tympani Your thrum drum not … [click for more]

PIYP Day 2019: Charlie Petch

  Glom Glom Sunraises by Charlie Petch   Dawn was especially noisy today, as the three suns sprouted from horizon, as the lamprey loons sung whale songs, as your tentacle slipped from my gilled side.   I opened one eyeball, to see the shine of us. Watched feathered spider flies steal the … [click for more]

PIYP Day 2019: Jim Nason

  Eggshells  by Jim Nason   When Rooster flew the Co-op to explore the world on stilts, no one talked  about the state of the nest he abandoned, the deathly  smell of broken, featherless hens, the eggshells  of prisoner grief that littered the floor-sod, rat pee  and half eaten worms, the … [click for more]

PIYP Day 2019: kjmunro

  A haiku by kjmunro   low winter sun the mist from a mandarin   Winner of the 2019 Very Small Verse contest from the League of Canadian Poets Download the League’s 2019 Poem in Your Pocket Day Booklet here. Download this poem as a postcard, designed by Megan Fildes, here. … [click for more]

PIYP Day 2019: Lorie Miseck

  Jazz (A Variation) by Lorie Miseck   A minor key swings open the blue door  of the heart.  Brassed and unhinged sound unwinds.  Sunset slides  down the day’s spine.  Slides down to the hour of smoke and wine, to artless sway of belonging.   To the one, to the lonely, to the only to each of … [click for more]

PIYP Day 2019: Kathryn Mockler

  Water by Kathryn Mockler   If you are feeling hopeless, then give up hope. I won’t tell anyone. I won’t tell you to put on a brave face or feel better about yourself. I won’t tell you to wash your hair or pick up the dirty clothes. You don’t … [click for more]

PIYP Day 2019: Allison LaSorda

  Beekeeping by Allison LaSorda   We don white hats and veils to check on your hive— push toward each other’s newness, curtailed by safety devices. A sting’s purple welt glares on your left calf. From the box, you pull bee-crowded sleeves: workers’ movement steady but erratic, sun strobes their … [click for more]

PIYP Day 2019: Fiona Tinwei Lam

  Ode to Chopsticks by Fiona Tinwei Lam   Grandfather sets the bowl full of marbles before me. I pick up the chopsticks and hover,  then picture my hand as a heron  with a long, long beak plunging down  to pluck each orb, lift it  through air and held breath in a tremulous trip toward the saucer.     Five thousand years of evolution in hand:  branches … [click for more]

PIYP Day 2019: Adebe DeRango-Adem

  O Sea of Troubles We Did Not Take Arms Against by Adebe DeRango-Adem   for many moons we were complete                          like a single river how beautiful we drifted                    … [click for more]

PIYP Day 2019: Lorne Daniel

  Crushed by Lorne Daniel   The bad news this week relentless, rolling past my glazed face. Addictions, elections, deaths of the wrong  people, hypnotic grief. Dazed  at the roadside today I breathe hot exhaust. Blurred  tires hiss, rut and groove the grey just a step away. Over, over. On the shoulder, waiting … [click for more]

PIYP Day 2019: Heather Cadsby

  Quick Question by Heather Cadsby   Speaking of good parenting I asked her how to be a natural mother. Or she asked me. It was blowing up a storm and we all knew a south wind brings rain. At least in that area. You couldn’t drink the lake water. … [click for more]

PIYP Day 2019: Marilyn Bowering

  Brother    by Marilyn Bowering   While he studies the stars outdoors, model airplanes spin on fine webs in his room. Already he is lifting into the air, wings on his heels, a small Hermes signaling to the Great Bear.  He reaches the outermost planets, he passes the edges of travel, … [click for more]

PIYP Day 2019: Yvonne Blomer

  Spotted Owl as Desire  by Yvonne Blomer .               After Robert Bateman’s Mossy Branches, Spotted Owl    True owl. Old-growth owl. Nocturnal owl. The clock turns by you.  Barking owl. Whistling.  Hooted notes fall from mossed trees.  Old-man moss. Knight’s Plume moss. Creeping-  feather moss. Nothing … [click for more]

#NPM19: Place by Gwen Benaway

  1.   I want to start here.   “no language is neutral seared into the spine’s unraveling. here is history too.”   Dionne Brand, No Language is Neutral   2.   I can’t write an essay on the political implications of Canadian nature poetry. I don’t believe in Canada, … [click for more]

Tree of Heaven by Bänoo Zan

Why do I worry about heaven? Have I lost my way to earth? . Tree of heaven is on earth going through fall . stripping out of her leaves with no innuendo . her sap unable to stop the loss (After Babel we are not of the same mind— . … [click for more]

The Sainte-Adèle variations by rob mclennan

. . . Every second-floor movement broadcast, hewn logs to the fore. I thought this was typical. Rhetoric, beats. Out of bed, on two strong legs. A Thanksgiving or two. This long, summer island. The Laurentides. What kinds of details required: such accurate flowers, a deer. Exaggerated silence. We ignore … [click for more]

2019 Book Awards: Longlist Announcement

To launch National Poetry Month, we are thrilled to announce the 2019 Book Awards longlists for the Gerald Lampert and Pat Lowther Memorial Awards, and the Raymond Souster Award. Shortlists for our Book Awards will be announced Tuesday, April 23 – we can’t wait! Congratulations to all of the longlisted poets and their publishers!   2019 … [click for more]

When I Reach by Eleonore Schönmaier

the tunnel exit you’ll be there waiting for me sitting on a wooden  crate at the side   of the tracks you’ll be holding a bowl of  pumpkin soup you cooked on a camp   stove by the dust  blown side of the journey. my hands and face will be dirty and … [click for more]

Woolly Bear By Tammy Armstrong

This fall everyone looked to the bands on a woolly bear caterpillar, and predicated as usual the direst of dire winters.  .                                                   – Annie Dillard   … [click for more]

Resurrections by Myna Wallin

My mother is alive again  in my dreams. And so is my father, though they rarely appear together.   In one variation my mother returns to visit, her cancer healed. We talk for a bit & she whispers Don’t tell your father I was here.   I ask her why she doesn’t … [click for more]

A haiku by Jacquie Pearce

. . . . lingering grief… a trace of Fukushima in the salmon   Copyright © Jacquie Pearce. Winner of the 2018 National Haiku Contest from the League of Canadian Poets.   – Jacquie Pearce grew up on Vancouver Island. She has published poetry, short non-fiction and several novels for children. Her … [click for more]

Convergence by Fern G. Z. Carr

The intersection   of a pane of sun and cloud    with a faint clink of hollow bones.   Bewildered black eyes.    Beak tipped with a droplet of scarlet.   Rattled.   Numbed.    A grounding paralysis    felling feathers    that once graced azure skies,   a grounding paralysis   and a fuzzy awareness    of the muffled patter   of mittened paws.   … [click for more]

The Wonder by Pat Connors

The years which have led me into middle age unwittingly, unwillingly have yet been kind. I have lost 20 pounds I have gained strength, patience. My eyes may not work as well but I see much more clearly. What I used to hate I now love what I used to … [click for more]

“it didn’t happen here” by Eleonore Schönmaier

i‘m in the bus which is really just an old car  and it‘s night and pouring rain and i‘m thirteen and the car is jammed with bodies and we‘re about to head down the long dirt road out to my settlement and the driver shouts, don’t let the drunk indian in, shouts to close  the door and i slam the door shut and blood runs down the  window and a man is out there alone in the night with a … [click for more]

Interview with Eleonore Schönmaier

Eleonore Schönmaier’s poem “it didn’t happen here” was named the winner of the League’s 3rd annual National Broadsheet Contest, selected by judge D.A. Lockhart for its “strong images, and captivating lyric voice.” We spoke with Eleonore about her writing and reading practices and also her upcoming projects.   League of … [click for more]

2019 National Broadsheet Contest Winner: Eleonore Schönmaier

Congratulations to the winner of the League’s 3rd annual National Broadsheet Contest, Eleonore Schönmaier! Eleonore’s winning poem, “it didn’t happen here” was selected by our judge D.A. Lockhart for its “strong images, and captivating lyric voice.” Here’s a first look at “it didn’t happen here,” designed for a broadsheet by Briar Craig: … [click for more]

Snoot by Lindsay B-e

Professor, it’s been thirteen years since you told me not to make art projects about my pets, beasts that aren’t lofty enough, tufts of fur rolling like tumbleweeds. I’ve tried to be tame, a cold metallic distance between what I make and who I see, out of the corner of … [click for more]

The Runaway Housewife at One A.M. by Angeline Schellenberg

Leave your husband and son, travel west  over the tomato vomit in the hallway, toward  a ghost town—say Sanctuary, Saskatchewan,  with a possible overnight in Hyde. First, find  the door. Grab the last cinnamon bun:  to dull the razor blade of your tongue. Listen  a moment to the clink-clock of your hot buttons  tumbling in … [click for more]

Dinosaur Aloft by Marvyne Jenoff

(at the Royal Ontario Museum) How sleep loves bones: nightly she tends Tyrannosaurus, comforts through the thundering seasons of its life and in its death holds deep its darkening bones. Discovery, slow dynamite, brings into light those bones and Latin-names them, leaches them of data, resurrects them into this skeleton … [click for more]

let me be your june cleaver by Kerry Gilbert

let me be your june cleaver—black-and-white cheek bones crisp and bold. i will splash some brazen pink on the dining room table, with orchids i grew in the greenhouse. the children will be: well-fed with freshly grown organic beef-steaks; well-bathed in lavender oil; well-loved and happily reading joseph campbell at their homeschool desks. i will chill your martini, dry—straight up, … [click for more]

Baldspot by Murray Reiss

Because it is utterly open to heaven and all its blessings. Because when consciousness escapes my body at the moment of death no clinging tendrils will deflect its homeward flight. Because of the seven chakras it is the crown, the thousand-petalled rainbow-coloured lotus. Because Don Juan told Carlos Castaneda that … [click for more]

Left Coast Poetry Beat: Massy Books

Column by Bill Arnott Western Canada’s poetry scene teems with talent, from neophytes to award-laden laureates. Authors of every facet share spoken word, competitive slam, and rapier-sharp contemporary as writers and fans converge in person, print, online and on airwaves. This is not a list of writing/reading groups or events. … [click for more]

Peripheral Field by Frances Boyle

Those birds in hedges leap from my sight. There, then settled elsewhere, stitched into green-dimpled quilting. I attend to washing my face, measuring oatmeal into the rolling boil.  Milk foam rises in a metal jug. The leap is a graceful thing, blink and you’ll miss it as they say. Birds, … [click for more]

Ten Mile Point by Ingrid Ruthig

It’s as if we pull up to the end of the world, throw the car doors wide and tumble out to consume the view – our breath arrested by a full-stop sky, the drop to treetops, the humpback La Cloche breaching horizon to the north, and water far as you … [click for more]

poem for your pocket by Doyali Islam

      Doyali Islam’s second poetry book is heft(McClelland & Stewart, 2019). This collection includes work published in Kenyon Review Online, Best Canadian Poetry, and here in Poetry Pause. In 2017, Doyali was a National Magazine Award poetry finalist and a guest on CBC Radio’s The Sunday Edition. An award-winning poet and the poetry … [click for more]

A Bulldog Named Sugar by Debbie Okun Hill

Across sunlit dining room table, her name spilled out of his mouth like crystal granules of time: Sugar, a lump of memory.   His face, wrinkled, skin folded  over jowls, a scowl, just like her and yet his and her eyes black as night twinkled as he reached deep into his childhood … [click for more]

Lunar Eclipse by DS Martin

(June 1928)  Yencheng, Honan, China    On Sunday evening as darkness crept in the people rushed out  with gongs .          & pots .                  & anything to make noise to scare the heavenly dog that slowly .      … [click for more]

Tattoos of You by Laura Kestrel

I would tattoo your perfume on my skin As a daily reminder of you Like the way Alex Katz dedicates a lot of work to his wife, Or how Fleetwood Mac put personal relations down on paper. But I have always been afraid Of it hurting too much And not … [click for more]

DNA of a Leaf by Laura K. McRae

A leaf that’s been eaten becomes lace. Small holes  scatter the edges, tatter them,    and only the centre remains—   cool green, marked by veins. The log too, bored   into lace, by woodpeckers, beetles,      termites, and those tiny bumps, clustering   along the trunk—  mushrooms, maybe, or fungus—  mark it as dead … [click for more]

Review: The Way of Haiku | By Naomi Beth Wakan

Shanti Arts | 2019 | 110 Page | $15.95 | Purchase online   Review by Janet Vickers, author of Infinite Power (Ekstasis Editions, 2016)   “Outside of truth there is no poetry” Uejima Onitsura” This quote, by Onitsura, is one that Naomi Beth Wakan uses to begin her introduction to haiku-writing and … [click for more]

Ready by Pat Connors

A poem is the sunrise after darkest night; an unexpected answer to much fervent prayer. It is grace extended from a neglected muse, only asking to be shared and seen, heard and felt. A poem is inspiration quickly recorded before lost, cut down, built up, cut down again, until it’s … [click for more]

Honey by Diana Manole

.            To Heraclitus and his river The honey I’ve been seeking since my last breakfast at home .            a little bit of light trapped in a little bit .            of ambrosia .          … [click for more]

Doorway by Ingrid Ruthig

A plane of passage contained by a frame hinged to the changing gate of a door – the ethos of past present and future. Means nothing, if locked, but it’s not. On one side the were. Inside, are, or the thin now of between. Through, and the future presents the … [click for more]

SNOW by Chad Norman

I will not walk in the footprints of another human. If I follow any path in the snow of those gone before me it must be hoofprints of deer, a run of the rabbit, or some other animal alive as I am. . . Copyright © Chad Norman. . . – … [click for more]

Poetry in Union: A Recap

On February 13, 2019, we brought seven Toronto poets to Union Station to write personalized love poems for commuters. Throughout the day, folks lined up for their chance to bring home a written-on-the-spot poem by Dominique Bernier-Cormier, Ronna Bloom, Michael Fraser, Suparna Ghosh, Jessica Hiemstra, Kate Marshall Flaherty, or Rajinderpal S. Pal that transformed … [click for more]

A litany for speaking by Pamela Porter

Because the wind bore down and the house fell dark Because branches were flung from the trees Because clouds broke free from the sky Because untamed birds have gone into hiding Because the horse will not leave though the gate blew open Because the moon is dark and cold in … [click for more]

Momentum by Frances Boyle

This trip makes your heart hurt, not  that old slow ache, echo of tires on wet pavement  through an underpass, but palpable  palpitation, crazed clock ticking   sideways through time. A beam  swings up a hill, makes sculpture of the clouds,  carves out the road, bulky, solid.  Things you pass at … [click for more]

Not Just My Bunions by Bernice Lever

Not just my bunions, they’re not that unique: .            red balls in summer, .            purple onions when cold, cracking the shiny leather  of fashionable shoes, bulging the sides of slippers, .            perhaps they miss the … [click for more]

A haiku by kjmunro

. . . . . low winter sun the mist from a mandarin . . Copyright © kjmunro. Winner of the Very Small Verse Contest from the League of Canadian Poets (2019). . . – Originally from Vancouver, Canada, kjmunro moved to the Yukon Territory in 1991. She founded & facilitates … [click for more]

Very Small Verse Contest Winner Announced

We received over 600 tiny poems as entries to the League’s first Very Small Verse Contest and from those, our wonderful judge Souvankham Thammavongsa selected a haiku written by kjmunro as the stand-out winner! “I read a lot of poems. Some were funny, others tried to do too much, or … [click for more]

Interior Lighting by Angeline Schellenberg

Hospital rooms are bright for a reason: through me, she entered one  as a small Sol flaring round and infrared, glossed and quivering, too radiant  for the naked eye.   When the doctor placed her  face up on my harrowed belly, her arms flew open— like an inverted beetle, a wind-washed … [click for more]

The Metamorphosis of Punctuation Marks by Diana Manole

They spell themselves out and I pretend I understand   comma   stuffed plump commas slither on our skin  seeking the best place to come  to a full stop   semicolon   translucent jade wings ingrained  in bodies of blackness future flutters still faulted by default the course of life is not the course of … [click for more]

I Have a Problem by Greg Santos

All I care about is everything. I like to lie down and look up at the stars, even when there are none. I am almost nothing but thoughts and water.  I find mirrors unbearably off-putting. My children find them droll. Do you feel that too? My left hand feels like … [click for more]

If You Say So by Abby Paige

I’d like to be the bullet in the story of the hunter who saves the heroine from a wolf. No authorship,  all instrument, aloft on the tailwind of someone else’s moral clarity, released from my sense of direction, sent  headlong into the beast’s hot flesh. No bullet regrets its trajectory. The terminal case is blessed by certainty,   endowed with freedom … [click for more]

Far Away by Kate Marshall Flaherty

Pictures taped on the wall, tenderly showing sequence— panties before skirt, socks before shoes—set me wondering what an Alzheimer mind feels like inside … Scrolling back to childhood where daughters seem sisters, déjà vus cobweb, and sleepwalkers startle and wake under snowy lamp-posts where I think I must know you … [click for more]

Name Me After a Fish by Leah MacLean-Evans

Goldeye or Cichlid  silver and smooth and genderless, make me as an alien, forget  the rules, name me  Corydoras of two halves, name me Coelacanth for surviving  name me Plecostromus name me Trout  name me Catfish  let them imagine my genitals as smooth tough skin, not think to touch them.  Say, let … [click for more]

time is an ingredient by Valerie Wong

to say you wounded me viscerally would be a matter of fact. eating hurt – salt and sugar marinated my mouth in an unholy fire. breathing hurt – acrid air tore against my nose, unleashing a torrent of blood thick as paint. the slightest flick of my tongue lit up … [click for more]

Dawn by Stephanie Cui

Out in the moonlight  The trees are glowing white. They are fully dressed and await the wind’s call.   But the wind is a shy girl at four in the morning,  And she does not come out to play. Dawn slowly tip-toes, blueing the sky. I am lost on a path … [click for more]

Out to Dry in Cape Breton by Anita Lahey

Nan hesitates at the window, fingering lace, humming her quiet history, cut-off breast. She stares down the old grey   laundry line out back, up the hill, swinging low. Strong as ever. No use for a body living on memories and bingo, sweetened  Carnation’s in her tea. “Can’t get up there … [click for more]

Moving On by Doris Fiszer

I don’t recognize this man whose steps shuffle tentatively as if his body were a burden.   I don’t recognize the shrunken belly his voice once booming now whispers in raspy monotones.   Age is unraveling him exposing his raw edges dampening the fire in his green eyes rattling his scientific mind … [click for more]