Summer of ‘67 the British had invaded and Canada celebrated 100 years of confederation – and Dad, at the top of his game, came home
Category: poetry
Chronic
Mitochondria, research says, holds the key to this malaise – DNA failing to generate required energy I push against facts, strive to hoist this stricken
The Boy in 3C
He like to walk across desktops, bright eyes filled with challenge, a shock of unkempt blond tuffs lending a distinctly menacing air. Had him for
Rain, Like a Typewriter
Rain tap, tap, taps on our tin box roof, like a typewriter rhythmically transcribing today’s lesson “Erect postures, elbows at ninety degrees, fingers poised, ready,
Oasis: Cataracts and Candour
To be candid the jolt of your affection rattled my sensibilities had not realized the depth of this despair, miscalculated my longing the rush of
Debonair and Deprived
“Is that you father?” acquaintances would ask – voices deep and dreamy. Particular about his dress, meticulous in his grooming, Dad’s eyes sparkled oceans his
