Big crow tapping in
a parking lot, all
colours soak into
its shiny fire of black.
Wounded, unable to fly,
it scorns the cars
and trucks driving past,
ceremonious as a potentate
demanding bowed heads
and obeisance
for it has slid upon
blue fields of sky,
discoursed with gods.
The smallness of these humans
is not impressive.
~ Gary Robinson
Gary Robinson is a writer from Ottawa and has
written poetry, short […]
1.
The way the soft
first light of dawn
finds its way
through needles
of black spruce,
as water works
its inexorable pathway
through rock.
2.
The way a stark
slab of granite will
become a garden
where mosses
and lichen precede
birch and pine
and root themselves
to court the sun.
~ Glen Sorestad
Glen Sorestad is a well known poet from Saskatoon who has published close to twenty volumes of poetry, the […]
The voices of the youngsters
in the three church camp canoes
radiate like gathering waves
across the water, as if they
were speaking into live mikes.
They believe themselves
safe from camp strictures
to say what they’d never dare
on shore. Water may be
a cleanser, but it’s also
a great conductor.
~ Glen Sorestad
Glen Sorestad is a well known poet from Saskatoon who has published […]
On concrete cold
flakes like shattered glass
fly into harsh headlights
of a 1977 Cougar.
Randy and I, like voyagers
sweating toques
navigate a stream of ice
hard as a Lloydminister night
black as the trees
passing uneasy
in January dark.
Wind and white whip the windshield
a thin membrane
between synthetic security and outer oblivion.
We are lost, Randy and I
only the pressing dark
and the 77 […]
