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the bird feeder hangs by a wirefrom a pine tree in the front yardthe wind sways it back and forthbut only on windy days. I sit in the poet’s housewatching the birds as they arrivesometimes the seeds drop to the groundwhere the hungry squirrels wait. the seeds drip like your thoughtsdrip…drip…drip…damn metaphors are everywhere. a…
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rustic sunsetsmy blood pools upon the soillet the cold damper my bonesfor nobody cries in October’s wake. youth never bendsblindly devouring the worldstaking claimabove all. October awaitswith her irony reviewhanding out dead daisiesupon bloodied field. Author Michael PlanteImage: October Wheatfield Source: PNGTree
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A Friend Not A Foe Jean Chretien’s words spoken at Gander’s 9/11 Memorial Ceremony “Yes, Canada is a generous, open country, and Canadians are tolerant and kind, but never mistake our generosity for weakness.” “Never, never mistake our tolerance for lack of determination, and never, never mistake our kindness for softness.” “We know who we…
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imaginewe can row a cloudlike a canoeto wherever we wantand white swans follow? our paddles carved from the finest imagination,like river salmon heading out to sea.the rippling skies abundant with laughteras scented winds carry our dreams. in the distancewe see an islanduntouched by adults;a place just for uswhere tears do not exist. all the forgotten…
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My name is Pamiuqit means “dog with no tail”I was born in the tundraa vast nothingnessthat leads to my feet. Only fate can distribute calamityand the tundra is full of it.It rises like snow drifts in winterand sings through blistering windswhen the midnight sun has disappeared. It breaks the very ice you stand oninto pieces…
