Tag Archives: poetry

A toast to James Pon’s grandfather

James Pon’s grandfather filled my mind during this rail trip from Montreal to Toronto last month. It was he, along with hundreds of other Chinese workers, who built this railway–although on the other side of the Rocky mountains. Last month, … Continue reading

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Mrs. Journalist here

My first “Mrs.” In my copy, I mean. I have never been nor shall I ever be a Mrs., but the Globe and Mail deigned to snap that honorific to the woman I profiled in today’s paper. It is hard, … Continue reading

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Elizabeth Brewster’s Joy foretold

I learned something new about grief today thanks to Margaret Atwood. Not from a character in one of her novels, or a line of her poetry, but from a personal response she made to my request for an interview. Some … Continue reading

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I have lost friends, some by death… others through sheer inability to cross the street. In this madly slap-dash way we’re living, with twisted wires limply cascading from our ears and the steady thrum of recorded voice pressing against our … Continue reading

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Voices of the “untongued dead”

I recently came across an essay by Matthew Skelton, a teacher of book history in Mainz, Germany. He describes sorting through a collection of old books and papers left by an obscure librarian named Elma Mitchell after her death in … Continue reading

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Raymond Souster: Toronto poet and sometime-beatnik

I can tell from the sunlight on the window sill that this day means business.  Raymond Souster was sometimes called the Bard of Toronto. Or street-poet-in-residence. One fellow poet called him “Canada’s Homer,” because at the end of his life, … Continue reading

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Au Revoir, Montreal

Finally, a Toronto poem because my writing retreat ends today and I’ll board the VIA train tomorrow morning. Back to my home in Toronto’s Film District. Thanks for reading my little words y’all.  Making movies CBC radio urges donations. I … Continue reading

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By the River, a poem

Walking memories by the river We dream for our children resurrect the ugliest visions a rock to dangle over sharp waters drag a body from the river, hotly awaken. Once a small girl strolls along the Humber with her grandfather … Continue reading

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Up against time

Cemetery Office girls from St. Clair towers wince from paper cuts and nylon tears hasten to unwrap sandwiches to dim the ticking bomb they spot her here she stands with the buckle tight awash at the tippy edge, unanchored hoary … Continue reading

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Listen!

This bit for a Friday… How they talk We like it, they say with our husbands away women come, women go stroller wheels kick dirt toddlers tangle with mothers’ breath all this sparkling boredom I have cancer, she says so … Continue reading

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