Category Archives: September 2021

Hazel Hall Now and then, an apricot tree springs up in the back yard of my memory, where our old house stands, once our mother’s family home. A chartreuse canopy traces lacey shade on warm brown earth below. The wind sings the same lullabies it sang to her. She’s replanted her favourite blooms from childhood:Continue reading “The Apricot Tree”

Amanda Joy “The blue colour wasn’t easy to remove. The night came – colour killer –“ ~ Nina Cassian, Vacation Later, I would carry rope in case a ranger chased us But then I would clap and yell “Go home, Get” and she would slink behind a bush or letterbox, wait. Cattle dog cross, anContinue reading “1994, A Dog Called Sappho”

Margaret Gudkov His furry body curled in half moon position The eyes dream of adventures I would never know He makes the soft, almost inaudible noises As if being chased by some regrets from past lives Maybe the foods he always craved, but never tried My faithful friend, companion in covid isolation My tail followingContinue reading “Friend for all seasons”

Andrew Leggett On my last office day, I clear shelves. My name plate space reverts to blank. I wait for you as afternoon wears on, dressed in the jeans of serial collegial goodbyes. Then packers at the beach house uplift everything and drive the material evidence of our lives in boxes to a domicile aContinue reading “Leaving”

Jennifer Harrison Using carbon filament four decades before Edison’s birth Sir Humphry Davy invented the arc light . . . the technician W.K. Laurie Dickson developed film stock the movie camera and the film projector in homage to film’s pioneers Edward Muybridge and the Lumière brothers . . . the phonograph perhaps and the DCContinue reading “Brilliance”

Pentecost Mate My garden has five petunias, each for each of my five fingers. Each petunia has five petals securely enclosed in five sepals. The petunia stems, slender and feminine, erotically spread out their limbs as they bend down limply and draw attention to five stamens that overzealously grow keen to feed the one delicateContinue reading “The petunia in my garden”

K F Pearson The cat in the window sits side on as if Egyptian, as that vast store we have of image and icon, suggests for her, who wears her glossy black fur coat, her own reward for her washing it, as though for a red carpet stepping out, or as silhouette till she stepsContinue reading “‘Apparition’, the Cat”